


My Favorite Martian

by BronzeBaboon



Series: My Favorite Martian [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen, Genderbending, Identity Issues, Slow To Update, Yet Another Halloween Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronzeBaboon/pseuds/BronzeBaboon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Something was left behind. Kid, you were left behind."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Not Easy...

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own squat insofar as any of the intellectual property played with in this fic goes. I.E. I do not own any part of BTVS or associated character, or the DCU, DCAU, or YJU. The loose plot, might be mine. But I doubt it.  
> Feedback: Always welcome  
> Spoilers: Bit of an au, But possible Spoilers up to the Halloween episode, and beyond. Though will diverge, wildly at times, from canon....(I hope.)  
> Authors Note: A couple of quick things before we get started. Before it’s noted, this fic is heavily influenced by a number of writers and their associated fics probably more than any other. Joehundredaire, and Cyclone. I’ll keep the fics that directly inspired this to myself for now, though over time it should be obvious, at least in one of the two’s case. I’ve also moved up the Buffyverse timeline by several years, as a necessary evil for where I wanted to go with this fic. There will be some gender bending done. And some character will wind up a bit different from canon. Hopefully, I’ll provide what most will consider a reasonable explanation for the changes. But, I’ll leave that up to those not so close.

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 06:49)

“Offer me everything I ask for!”

“Anything you want...”

“I WANT MY....”

Hitting the floor with an audible thud, Alexander LaVelle Harris was dragged bodily from his somewhat bizarre, if pleasant dream with an audible groan.

“Ugh..” Untangling the blankets from around his legs, he blinked blearily as he turned around looking for his alarm clock, before recalling he didn't have one. At least not since the last time he and Tony had had a ‘difference of opinion’.

Ah, well.

Standing unsteadily as he tossed the blanket back onto the bed, he grabbed a relatively clean outfit from the pile of clothes sitting next to his dresser, before stumbling his way out of his room and off towards the bathroom, mumbling to himself the whole way.

“Hell of a dream, suppose I shoulda known better then to sleep on an empty stomach....wait, how did I get home last night? What did I do last night anyways? Lessee...today's...I dunno. Hmmm...Last thing I remember was....Twinkies?...No. No. Am hungry though.”

Opening the bathroom door, he grunted slightly as he nearly slipped on the ratty old rug laid over the tile, catching himself on the sink. Regaining his balance, he turned on the shower faucet, before his mumbling reemerged, “No, okay, there was...Snyder? I think. Oh...Yeah. Halloween. How’d I forget that? Bah. Okay. So, got drafted then...oh yeah, Costume shop with Creepy-Not-Giles-English dude. Buffy and Wills arguing over a costume then...”

Stepping into the shower, Xander’s musings were cut off momentarily as he let the water soak in for a few moments.

“Mmmm. Okay. Where was I? Oh. Costumes. Yeah. Wills wanted tradition, Buff was trying to get her to ‘expand her horizons’, heh, woulda been neat to see Wills in what Buffy was trying to dump her in. Hmm, oh yeah, then I got dragged into things when Buffy suggested a ‘Compromise’.”

“Blah blah blah, long story short, bye bye fatigues, Hello scratchy medieval tunic thing, and pants so tight someone coulda told my religion at a glance if not for the cup...thing.”

“And then...”

Stepping out of the shower, reaching for a towel, Xander glanced in the mirror, every thought running through his head derailing suddenly as he stared, slowly raising a hand, then letting it fall, his mouth opening, then closing.

Finally, he stated with a bit of his trademark good humor, “Green freaky demon and...” Slowly he moved the towel from where it rested over his shoulder, before bringing a hand slowly up to his chest “Something that looks distinctly like Tit’s, by Picasso. I get this funny little feeling I missed something important last night.” Glancing down the apparently former teenage boy amended, "Or should that be I'm missing something I had last night."

The ‘young man’ promptly fainted dead away, landing on the floor with a meaty thud. Just barely missing colliding with the toilet as he fell.

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 07:07)

Wearing a pair of dark slacks, boots, a light turtle neck, and an old beaten fedora, a single man walked the long stretch of highway between where he’d been, and where he might go.

He had been walking along that empty stretch of road for a long time. His intervention had not been needed, as yet, and so he simply traveled. Reveling in the freedom such allowed him.

But now, looking towards the south, he felt it, and a small smile crept onto his face.

“The sleeper awakens. Things will get interesting again.”

His steps seemed a bit lighter he continued walking, whistling a little tune as he went, smile still tugging at the edge of his mouth.

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 07:38)

Leaning back in his office, Rupert Giles slowly sipped at his morning tea, trying to soothe the nerves the previous night had frayed.

It was too quick, too easy. He’d let the walls drop, let the masks fall away, thrown off everything he’d done, everything he’d built of himself with barely a thought.

Rayne had made a nuisance of himself, worse yet, he’d attacked the children. His children. He hadn't heard more than a few words of them from the others. Hadn't seen hide nor hair of them since before Rayne had sent things to hell in his own way.

But Ethan had cast his spell, let loose his bit of chaos, and when he’d found him, found out what he’d done?

Ripper had come out to play. And oh how he’d enjoyed it. The pain he inflicted, the sheer contempt each blow conveyed, the glee he took with every drop of blood he’d spilled, every little bone he’d snapped in his search for answers.

No. No. Honesty. Honesty was better. Confront the demons, his demons, that’s what he’d been taught.

No, answers hadn't mattered. All that had mattered was the rage. The drive for vengeance. And the sweet thrill of it all. Ripper. His own name for his own darkness. He had to remain truthful when dealing with it, if he ever hoped to truly master it.

The sudden ringing of his phone brought Giles out of his silent musings. Setting down his glass, he reached for it, “Sunnydale High, this is Rupert Giles speaking?”

“Giles...”, an almost unfamiliar voice whispered out from the speaker.

“Xander, lad, is that you? You sound ghastly.” Giles frowned, he could already sense something was amiss. Given last night, he did however, have a bit of an idea about that.

“Y-yeah.” The boy took an audible breath, before speaking again, “I...think I need your help.”

“Yes, well...” Giles trailed, this was actually odd behavior for the boy, usually it seems if he was neck deep in a problem, they had to find him, he didn't come to them, ah well, a change for the better was always agreeable he supposed, “Is this about last night? The Halloween debacle? I was informed of what transpired, and managed to put an end to the spell. It was a spell, if you were unaware. The, uh, chap running that costume shop, Ethan's, doing actually. Miss Chase told me you’d been caught up in it.”

There was a long pause on the other end, before Xander responded, confusion clear in his tone, “No. Yes. Maybe. I really don’t know G-Man. It’s not something I feel comfortable talking about over the phone. Not in this town, at least.”

“Well, the School....”

“NO!” Cutting Giles off, Xander again repeated in the whisper he’d been using so far, “No.” Though the shout itself was damning when it came to further showing the change his voice had undertaken, it was lighter, but with a resonance that seemed almost...otherworldly. “No. That’s not a good idea. I’m...ah... Could you come to my place?”

“Hmm, perhaps.” Something was amiss, Giles was now sure. And he did not want to risk it falling to his Slayer yet. No. He could handle this for the time being. “Yes. I will be there shortly, I’ll just need to take care of a few things here to keep the library running while I am out. Will you be okay till then?”

“Yeah, that's fine. Just, y’know, don’t dawdle.”

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 07:49)

“Ms. Calendar?”

It had been a bit of a long night, Jenny had spent most of it working on a program for a demonstration she planned to give in an upcoming class. So, she was admittedly feeling a bit off kilter this morning. Looking up from where she’d been shuffling a few random papers Principal Snyder had all but thrown at her that morning, she found herself facing one of her favorite students, causing a slight grin to blossom across her face, “Willow, Good morning.” Noticing how the girl seemed to be nervously bouncing from foot to foot, concern practically written across her face, she asked, “Is something the matter?”

“Have you seen Xander? Or Buffy? Or, or, Mr. Giles?” She asked, nibbling on her bottom lip, “I checked the library, but no one was there, I tried calling from the phone in Giles office, um, he’s told me before it’s okay to use it, and well, I don’t think he’d have a problem under the circumstance given that. But well, no one answered anyways, and, well, I know Buffy can take care of herself usually, mostly, and she’s always got Angel at her back but well...I’mworriedaboutXanderandGileshaveyoumaybeseenthem?”

Jenny blinked. Looked up at the almost panicked look her student was giving her, then blinked again. “Okay. I think I got most of that. But could you repeat the last part. I’m afraid you went a little too fast for me.”

“I’m worried about Xander and Giles have you maybe seen them?” Willow repeated, a hopeful almost pleading look on her face.

“I saw Giles this morning in the teachers lounge when I came in. I’m afraid I haven’t seen Xander or Buffy. However, if Giles isn't in the library, or his office, I’d wager he’s probably already on the case of where they've gone.” Jenny answered slowly, careful not to say anything that would hopefully get the young woman worked up again.

“Oh.” Relief seemed to flood through the redhead, as she let herself fall into one of the chairs sitting in front of the computers that lined the room, “Thank you. I guess I should probably get back to the library until classes start. In case the others show up. If you see any of them, you’ll let them know I’m looking for them, right?”

Jenny nodded.

“Thanks. Really, Ms. Calendar, you’re the greatest.”

As the door shut behind Willow, Jenny gave a small snort of amusement. “I wonder what they've gotten into this time. Last night was Halloween, so probably nothing major. But still. Should be worth checking in a little later and getting the scoop from English.”

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 08:05)

Coming to the front door of the Harris Home, Giles was more than a little surprised to find the door unlocked and slightly ajar. Knocking on the frame, he peeked in, calling out hesitantly, “Hello, this is Rupert Giles, with the school, is, uh, Alexander home?”

Moving into sight at the end of the entrance hall, a tall, probably Six foot, maybe six three figure covered in what appeared to be a rather large and ratty old quilt spoke up in the same whispered tone Xander had used on the phone earlier, “Mom and Tony aren't here, Giles. They’re up in Washington, visiting family. It’s, just me.”

Turning, the figure moved down another hall, leaving Giles to follow after he closed the door, as it moved into the living room of the home, “You know, you really shouldn't leave doors open around town, Vampires might not be much for daylight...”

“I kept an eye out, watching, waiting for you to pull up, before I unlocked it.” Taking several steps away from the Brit, Xander let the quilt drop from over his head, “Didn’t think letting the neighbors catch sight of this would be a good idea.”

“Good Heavens!” Giles reeled back at the sight presented to him reaching back into his jacket, he barely kept himself standing as he backed against the couch, “How...when....What did you dress as last night?!”

“Movie character, not important, and definitely not...” Xander rambled as he nervously raised a three fingered hand up through the blanket to point at his only vaguely human face, “Anything that resembled this.”

“My word.” The librarian practically fell back onto the seat, shock written across his features as he examined the 'boy', “And you just woke up like this, I take it?”

Taking a seat on the coffee table facing the librarian, causing said table to give a brief grown of protest, Xander nodded in answer to the older mans question, responding slowly, more than a little fear seeping passed the shock and into his voice as he spoke, "I don't....I can't remember much of yesterday as a whole. And..." Shaking his head at something, Xander went quiet for a moment, staring down at the floor beneath his feet before finally continuing, "Nothing passed a certain point. The spell you mentioned, maybe, I guess."

“...” Giles rubbed his temples as he resisted the urge to stare at the teen before him, searching his mind for anything of use to help solve this riddle. After a few quiet minutes had passed, he finally ventured, “Well, it reminds me a little of one of the run in's you had last year. Perhaps they could be connected?”

“Ms. French?” Xander shook his head slowly, frowning slightly, “No. I don’t think so. Thought about that earlier, like some sort of slow burning infection, or something she could've done before Buffy showed up. But nothing other then the coloring seemed to scream ‘Cannibal bug lady’” Scratching his chin with one of his elongated fingers he added in a mutter, “Well, other then maybe the lady bit.”

“Hmm? What was that?” Giles raised an eyebrow.

Shoulders slumped, Xander let out a sigh, “I can’t say for certain, and oh, please don’t ask me to drop the blanket. But whatever...I have become, doesn't seem to have uh...the same ‘equipment’ I used to.”

“Well, it is likely a demonic species, they do not always reproduce in the same manner as...”, Supressing a sympathetic wince, Giles tried to console the boy awkwardly as he realized something might have been...misplaced in the transformation.

“No. Not really what I meant. Well, not entirely.” Xander shuddered slightly, “I’m not sure how to say this, but here goes. So, this...whatever I am, seems to have added an extra Fe, onto the front of my status as a male.”

“Fe...onto...” Giles stopped, before his head shot back up with an almost audible snap, “My word, are you telling me you've become a woman, lad?”

“I really wish I wasn't, if that helps?” Xander stated a little derisively, clearly uncomfortable even discussing the subject. “But yeah. So, what do you think, demon body swap? Magic whammy? Botched possession?”

“I uh...” Giles stood slowly, before starting to circle the ‘boy’, “I can’t say I recognize what you've become from any of my studies. It’s most definitely not any of the more common demonic races. Given last night's events, a possession or magic would seem...unlikely, what was done was chaos magics, channeled through offerings to a ‘God’ of sorts, and it’s notoriously difficult to work other magics when those are in effect. Honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss, as you said your ‘Costume’ last night has no apparent relation to what you've become.”

“Oh.” Shoulder slumping wearily, all the life seemed to go out of the changed teen as those words sunk in, “Huh. Suppose Buffy will finally get me out of the line of fire at least. Can’t exactly patrol if I look like what we’re trying to hunt.”

“Oh, please do not be so dramatic,” The Watcher chided, putting some effort into making the situation seem less...difficult, “I do have contacts, and resources I can pull on to try to solve this dilemma. Albeit some I am more loathe to use than others. But we have faced far worse in the short time since you children descended into this ‘world’ last year. So, do drop the theatrics. I will not promise a swift solution, but there likely is one out there. I just require time to find it.”

“Thanks.” Xander smiled, a slightly disturbing sight with the changes his, now her, face had taken on, “Really Giles thanks.”

Taking a seat of her own, on the couch, a sense of relief seemed to wash over the boy, “Any word from the girls?”

“None, as yet. But as you recall, it is fairly early yet. And likely after last night's events, I can understand if they were a tad late getting a start to their day.”

Xander nodded, “Alright. Call me once you hear from them?”

“Of course.” Giles nodded, moving towards the door, he stated, “I think I should get back, so I can get the ball rolling so to speak, and be there to explain certaom things about last night when they do finally make their way. What do you want me to tell them about your...condition?”

Xander stared at the carpet for several moments, “I’d like to say, tell them nothing.” He stated honestly, but quickly dismissed it, “But, that seems like a really bad idea where Buffy’s involved. I’d say just tell them something hell mouthy sideswiped me for now. And I’m not fit to be seen till you figure out a solution. If they press, I guess tell them everything, just, if you do, try to make sure Deadboy isn't lurking around if you could.”

With one final nod, and a quick goodbye, the older man left, closing the door behind himself. Moving to follow, Xander locked it before returning to the living room. Only to find a familiar figure leaning against the door frame that lead into the kitchen. His graying brown hair, tall lean figure, and taste in clothing a bit...distinct.

“Hey kid. We need to talk.”

“UNCLE RORY?!?”

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 08:06)

It was quiet. She found herself more at ease with the quiet. It gave her time to think, and she had plenty of that to do right now.

Halloween. It was almost poetic in a way. That that night would have changed her so much. For good or ill, she wasn't sure. Though she couldn't really bring herself to care either way.

After all, she thought as she slowly curled a lock of dark hair from one of the braids she'd just finished around her finger, looking in the mirror. She liked the changes, and that was what mattered.

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 08:12)

“UNCLE RORY?!?”

Giving the kid a dirty look from where he still stood, the aforenamed Rory responded grumpily, “Yeah, and I heard ya the first time kid.”

“Sorry...just you didn’t say anything and wait...You you called me kid. You only ever call me kid. How....What...” Xander’s sputtered, unsure, at a lost, and after a moment he dropped to the floor, the quilt sprawling out around him,”What is going on?"

Moving off the door-frame, and taking a single step forward, Rory shrugged, “A lot, I suppose. And yeah, I know it’s you, kid. Hell, even if I hadn’t, after hearing you with the brit, and then just now, well, it’d be a bit tough not to make that little leap of logic.”

Reaching into his back pocket, Rory dug around for a moment, before pulling out his wallet, flipping it open, he pulled out a simple white card, before tucking it back in, “Hell of a night, last night, wasn’t it? Wasn’t here, myself, out and about on business. But from everything I’m hearing. Hot night on the old Hellmouth. You got caught up in it, I know. Which is why I’m here. “

Tossing the card down at the kid, he continued, “See that? Used to be a nice emerald green. Used it to keep track of ya kid. Well, in a way. See, there's a lot that’s been kept from you. That I’ve kept from you.”

“Hell.” Rory snorted, “Your ‘Parents’ don’t even know some of the shit I know about you.”

Xander paled, her mind immediately shooting towards the most obvious, “You know about Buffy?”

“The cheerleader? Yeah. I know what she is and who she works for, and what you do with her and your little girl friend, and the Old man that just left. But not what I meant kid. Last nights caused problems, but they ain’t problems that originated with Last night.” Looking down at the card now sitting in the kids lap, he crouched down, “That card was a monitor. For a number of things, a number of spells, a number of seals. All placed on you. Kid, ya see, how do I put this....You aren't who you think you are. We made you think that. We didn't know what else to do with you.” Shaking his head, Rory amended, “Hell, I’m talking as if I really had a choice. See, kid, your old Uncle Rory, he’s what you might call a...Maintenance man.”

“But your a mechanic.”, Xander couldn't help but respond with some confusion, still clearly in shock.

“That’s the day job. Or side job, Kid. There's a difference. But yeah, Maintenance man. Same as my Father, his father before him, and so on, and so forth.”

“But Papa Harris was a Vet, lived off his retirement, and before that he was a drill instructor and an MP not...that.” The green skinned, red eyed ‘girl’ stared up at Rory in confusion.

“Kid, seriously, don’t be stupid.” Rory glared, “You know I’m not a Harris. Yeah, me and Tony are Half Brothers, but you know I’m a Regan. Fuck, not sure what I woulda done or become If I’d been under that Sorry ol’ Cuss’s thumb like Tony was. Now can I actually get to the point, or are we gonna be doing this all night?”

Xander just nodded mutely.

“Right. I’ll try to make it a bit quicker then. In the Regan” Rory made sure to make the emphasis clear on the name, “Family, there's a bit of a tradition. A burden passed from father to son. It’s..hard to explain, but, it’s what brought me to you. In the course of carrying out my ‘Work’, I ran into a group of creepy crawlies, real crazy lot, called themselves the Sisterhood of She, or Fee, or something. Long story short, there were doing something weird, a ritual, maybe, something Magical though. I can tell you that much. I managed to run ‘em off.” Xander gave Rory a rather incredulous look at that, “Hey now, I did! Part of the burden. But beside the point. I ran ‘em off. But whatever they were doing, when they ran off, something was left behind.”

Staring straight at Xander, Rory repeated, “Kid, you were left behind.”

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 21:00)

Slamming his apartment door behind him as he returned home that evening, Giles threw his keys onto the coffee table before making a beeline for the kitchen. Rummaging through his cupboards for several minutes, before he produced the item he’d been searching for.

Returning to his couch, picking up the hand held on the way, Giles pulled the stopper from the large bottle of scotch he kept in case of ‘Emergencies’.

It had been a long day.

Thinking back on Alexander, he gave an audible sigh. A very long Day.

Joyce Summers had called in for her daughter, Alexander had obviously not been able to attend either, which had left him rather solely at the mercy of Ms. Rosenberg.

She had been more than a little distressed when she had entered the library during her lunch period. He’d told her what he could, and done what little he was able to allay her fears.

Though he had not told her about just what exactly Alexander was going through. It truly hadn’t seemed a very good idea, given the frame of mind the girl seemed to be in with both of her friends momentarily out of sight. And frankly He rather hoped that that bit of mess would be resolved without having to involve either of his other charges.

Focusing once again on the phone, Giles hit the speed dial, he waited until he heard a connection on the other end speaking before the other side had a chance, “Hello, this is Rupert Giles, I need to speak to the head of the Council.”

“...”

“No. We have a problem, but it’s one he’ll want to give his direct attention.”

“...”

“...No. Not that type of problem. I wager I’d be a bit more cross with all these questions were it THAT kind of problem. No, as I said though, this needs his direct attention.”

“...”

“Yes. Yes. I can hold while you get him.” Giles replied dryly, looking over to a picture on his mantle of himself with the three Children, a little after the Masters defeat, he gave a wan smile, “Sorry, Alexander. But this is for the best, I think.”

“Maybe.” He added, taking a pull from the bottle.


	2. ...Being Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own squat insofar as any of the intellectual property played with in this fic goes. I.E. I do not own any part of BTVS or associated character, or the DCU, DCAU, or YJU. The loose plot, might be mine. But I doubt it.  
> Feedback: Always welcome

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 23:09)

The large double doors that lead into the Sunnydale High School Library silently clicked opened as they were unlocked.

Darkness reigned in the library as a single, small, dark haired feminine figure walked quietly into the facility, arms folded behind her back, glancing slowly around, “Water, water everywhere. But what poison shall I taste of first?”

Slowly weaving her way through the stacks, the girl finally stopped near the end, bending low to look at a few of the books lining the bottom shelf, fingering the spine of one of the books as she read its title, “A treatise on common european demonic poisonsm and potential counter agents, that could prove useful.”

Removing the book, she continued her hunt.

))V((

(SAT, 11/01, 08:25)

Scratching at his chin, Rory mused quietly to himself, “Where was I?”

“Crazyville?” Xander supplied as she moved to take a seat on the couch, pulling the blanket in closer. “I’m Xander. I’ve always been Xander. You didn’t find me. This is just...the regular hellmouth related weirdness of the week.” Nodding, Xander focused her eyes on the floor.

“....Kid.” Rory sighed, staring across at Xander, “I thought you were taking this better then that.”

“Taking what? Taking you telling me I’m some Demon baby dropped by some demon cult that you just stumbled on?” Xander huffed.

“Well, yeah, kinda?” Rory gave a small shrug.

“WHO THE FUCK IS GOING TO TAKE THAT WELL!?” Xander screamed, just before all the windows in the house suddenly cracked with a series of loud POPS.

Looking around slowly, Rory slowed his breathing for a few moments, muttering darkly to himself as he did, “I’m such crap with kids. Fuck you Rook. Fuck you for leaving me with this.”

Moving towards Xander, Slowly, Rory stated in a soothing tone, well, really the closest thing he could manage, which was basically just a slightly less harsh tone of voice, “Kid. Come on kid. You’re stronger than this. Better than this. Fuck, still don’t know how Tony managed to raise a kid as good as you. Come on, just calm down. Look this in the eye, and fucking laugh. Like you always do.”

“Heh.” Xander let a small chuckle slip, before looking back up at her uncle a forlorn and very lost look in her eyes, “Why?”

“Why what?” Rory asked.

“Any of this. Why? I’m supposed to be the normal guy, the goof, not...not...” Xander trailed off, just staring down into the blanket that covered her.

Scratching his head, Rory gave a little helpless shrug, “Little profound that kid. I can’t really answer that. I’m here just to give you the truth, as I know it. Maybe help ya a bit, if I can. If not, then I’m here to wish you luck, and maybe point you in a direction.”

Xander didn't say anything to that, he just continued to stare.

“Ah, suppose I should get back to it then.” Rory sighed heavily falling back onto the couch, “You were left behind. Don’t know why, don’t know if you were part of the ritual, or something else entirely. Demon magic’s kind of a crap shoot like that, kind of hard for someone whose not a complete monster to ever fully understand the mechanics.” Rory nodded, “I found you, a small little green thing, that looked a little like one of H.P. Lovecraft's tamer creations.”

“I was thinking Picasso.” Xander chipped in a small sad smile on her face.

"Spawn of Cthulu, or Picasso's final acid trip. To each their own, kid.” Rory allowed just glad the kid had momentarily stopped screaming denials, “I didn't recognize you. You didn't feel demonic. Not that all demons do. But you were just a little thing. Didn't seem right to abandon you or....well, lets not talk about what else I could have done back then. Past is the past in that regard. Anyway. There's a group...a sort of loose ‘Government’ for the strange, mystical, and not-of-this plane sort. I decided, for my conscience sake, my best bet was to get you to them.”

“Who, the Watchers? You took me to the Watchers?” The girls voice seemed to waver between fear, and astonishment at the prospect.

“HA!” Rory’s fist hit the arm of the couch behind him with a heavy thud, “Good one kid. Hell no. Different group. Very different group. Call themselves the ‘Assembly’ these days for the most part, though that’s not really here nor there. I got you to them, and let me tell you it was a hell of a trip, you were a damn little hellion back then, don’t think I’d ever been as relieved as when I finally walked through their doors, despite the repeated attempted drownings, flingings, mind tricks, and what have you you’d managed to pull on Ol’ Rory.”

Moving over to take a seat on the edge of the couch, Rory looked down at Xander, “Got you there, and they had a look at you. They couldn't tell what you were either. New demonic race, tended to be the most bandied about theory, but no one was certain. And let me just say, when it comes to demonology, the mystical, and the supposedly mythological, if anybody’s going to know something, it’s a sucker bet that it’s this group. But yeah, left without a real answer, they decided measures had to be taken. You were just too powerful, with an conundrum of a temperament, well other than ‘Doesn’t respond well to Rory’s’ I suppose. You’d shown a natural affinity for Shapeshifting. “

 

“Near got me in trouble a couple times when you turned into copies of other peoples kids and tried to toddle off when I was trying to get you there, for that matter.” Rory added with a sheepish smile. “So they decreed that you’d be sealed in human form.”

Rory shot the kid a quick apologetic look, before he went on, “Your abilities, well, all that we could figure out, were magically suppressed, then further sealed. You were placed with a family close to, but not part of the Assembly, a family that had very recently lost a child shortly after birth. My family, well, my Brothers family. Since I found you, they thought best if I ‘remained’ your Warden, I suppose, is the best term, well, not really, but it's the one they used. They didn't know how you’d develop. What you’d do if given free access to the power held within you. So they put you here. Tony and Jess’s kid had been a boy, and since at the time, they really couldn't figure whether you were the male, female, or other of whatever you were. They just went along with that. Altered your ‘Parents’ memories so they’d never lost Alex. Altered your records. And left you to grow up into whatever person it was you’d become.”

“Then Halloween happened.” Xander stated quietly, more than a little gobsmacked by the sudden influx of information that had taken her world view for a joyride.

“Got it in one, Kiddo.” Rory smiled, leaning back a bit, “Halloween happened. Whatever the hell happened last night, it shattered the magick that held you in check, hell, did more than that really, since the memory spells on your parents were tied to the seals....”

Gasping, Xander turned to Rory, eyes wide her voice nearly breaking with her sudden realization, “They’re not gonna re..remember me are they?”

Arching an eyebrow, Rory stared down at the kid before snorting, “I swear, sometimes I wonder at just how thick you can be. No. They've spent Fifteen some odd years raising you. They’ll remember you, but if they think on it? They’ll remember Alex. The real Alex, too. And what happened to him.”

“Oh.” Xander’s processed that for a moment, realizing what it meant, and how they’d treat her now just compared to before. “Crap.” It was not a pleasant picture.

“Pretty much.” Rory agreed, feeling for the kid, “Luckily they’ll be out of town till the end of next week. Maybe longer, if some things I’m thinking about trying work. But yeah. They’ll remember, sooner or later.”

“What...what about the Assembly? Those people you mentioned? They, they did this too me, can’t they...fix it?” Xander all but plead.

“Could they? Very possibly. Will they? Nope.” Rory answered bluntly.

“What?! Why?!” Xander squawked, spinning towards her uncle at that bombshell.

“Because we didn't know what you were,” Rory offered, “But we've got a good idea now.”

“What...what do you mean? What am I?” Fear, hope, confusion, worry, Xander really felt like she was riding the emotional roller-coaster, and this latest ‘hill’ was definitely leaving her worried just how far the drop down would go.

Rubbing a hand through his slowly graying hair, Rory slowly pushed himself to his feet, muttering as he walked towards the television in the corner of the room, “Dumb as a sack of hammers, I tell you.”

Turning the tv on, he flipped through the stations until landing on a news broadcast, covering a group of heroes that had assembled over the past year.

Pointing to the screen, Rory asked, “You really don’t see the resemblance?”

Xander blinked, staring at the television for a moment, looking at the people displayed in front of their headquarters in Washington, DC. As some reporter droned on about their recent accomplishments.

A woman in a patriotic little one piece swim suit, caption below her read ‘Wonder Woman’ no, not her.

A big Caucasian guy, in blue and red spandex with a cape and a capital S on his chest, maybe he’d resembled him a bit before the change but not now.

A lightly armored couple, carrying medieval weaponry with wings on their backs...no, though they reminded him of Buffy a bit, for some reason he couldn't quite pin down. Well, other than favoring implements of antiquated destruction. They’re own captions reading ‘Hawkman and Hawkwoman’

That just left a Green guy with red eyes, a big shiny naked metal guy, a goofy looking Elvis imper.....Xander stopped himself suddenly, as his thoughts slowly rewound. Eyeing the TV.

Looking up at her Uncle, she was utterly flabbergasted, “Oh my god, I’m Marvin the Martian.”

“Shouldn’t that be Marvina?” Rory chuckled.

A cold look in her eyes, Xander ground out slowly, “Don’t push.”

Leaning heavily back into the couch, the non-human girl let out a heavy sigh, “Please don’t push.” Breathing slowly, she went on, “This...is a lot. Tony...me and him, well, you know. But he still did right by me, when I was younger. And Mom...” A three fingered hand reached up caressing what passed for a temple on Xander’s head, as she corrected, “Jessica, I suppose, now. She tried. God how she tried. I might have wished once or twice I wasn't...you know...theirs. But they were still my parents. I still loved them. I still love them. I might not respect Tony anymore. But...”

Opening her eyes, Xander turned to Rory, unshed tears clear in the murky red depths, “But y’know...”

Reaching a hand over to the kids shoulder, Rory gave his ‘former’ nephew a half smile, “Yeah, kid, I do.”

Sniffling, slightly, Xander turned her head down, staring at the floor as she slowly regained control of herself. After a few quiet minutes had passed, she started again, her voice wavering slightly, “I’m not their kid. I’m not human. Hell, I’m not even from this planet if you’re guess is accurate.” Shaking her head slowly, she asked in a flat tone, not daring to look up, “Why tell me all this? If not before, why now? Why not just leave me to stumble in the dark?”

Pushing himself back up off the couch, Rory took a few steps visibly mulling over the question before responding slowly, “Politics? I can’t say much kid, I hope you understand. But the Assembly, they’re good people, to an extent. But...this is something else. You weren't under their purview. They, and I, I suppose, royally fucked up.” Pacing slightly, Rory patted his pockets, eventually coming up with a cigarette which he placed in his mouth unlit, “I knew how things had been blowing ever since the Manhunter fella came onto the scene. Knew suspicions were rising about your case. I had to rush when the seals broke, I had to rip the band-aid off, because if I didn’t? They would've ordered me not to. They would probably have ordered me to break contact entirely. And when they make those kind of orders, they have to be followed. You don’t get a choice.” Giving a slight shrug, Rory added with the hint of a smile, “Now? They can’t. At least not as effectively. And at least until they do, I can try to help, if you’ll let me.”

Lighting the cigarette finally, Rory asked hesitantly, “So, what do ya say kid?”

The possibly martian girl let out a small sad and almost wistful sigh, before looking up, a slightly lackluster smile on her face, “Where do we start?”

 

))V((

(SUN, 11/02, 23:23)

“Swear to god that kid must fallen on his head one too many times the way he acts sometimes....” Digging through his fridge, back at his apartment, Rory Regan idly thought over the past few days.

Apparently, from what the kid had let slip, some fucking Brit was responsible for making a mess of things. Well, more of a mess anyways. The crowd the kid had fallen in with, probably would've wound up accidentally screwing up the Assembly’s hard work sooner or later.

But damn. He’d hoped the kid would at least be out of high school first. This was just gonna make things a headache for him. For the kid. And probably for anyone else that had to pull in to help clean up the mess.

Giving a slightly disgusted sigh, he grabbed the only alcoholic drink he apparently had left at the moment, a ‘Mikes Hard Lemonade’, something he kept around mostly for when Tony dragged Jessica over.

Settling back in his bedroom, drink in hand, he’d just turned on the TV when his phone rang.

Setting his not-really-a-beer down, he answered, his tone a bit sharp with aggravation, “Regan speaking.”

“The seals have broken, I expect you've broken contact to avoid any...unpleasantness falling upon our august body?”, came the response at the other end, a very slight accent to the voice.

“....No.” Rory snapped, his irritation rising slightly and settling into his voice.

“Unfortunate. I suspect you've done the ill-advised and gone to it then?” The caller responded, disgust clear as day.

“Yes I damn well told him...her...whatever! What the fuck did you expect me to do, Jim?!” The man shouted into the mobile. “Kid’s just, well, a Kid! I couldn't do that to him. Deserves better than that, damn it!”

“You remember the oaths, yes? They are still binding. If you've broken them, we will know, and I can assure you, I will ensure the full consequences will be enforced.”

“Yeah, I know!” Rory shot back angrily. “I didn’t tell ‘em everything. Just what I thought was important. Got ‘er to agree to let me help her figure out how to work her tricks. Helped her a bit today actually.”

“Important? So you've likely given it our names, told it of what was spoken between us all that day? Foolish. ”

“No, I don’t damn well think you were that fucking important. I did mention the group, but not by name, well, not by proper name, and I didn't tell him who any of you were. Happy?” The graying man spat.

“There will be a meeting, soon, you will not be invited, we will be discussing your actions. I expect you will be hearing for one of our agents....soon. Goodnight Rory.”

Slamming the phone down several times, cutting the connection, Rory growled under his breath, “Asshole.”

))V((

(MON, 11/03, 07:21)

Sitting at the edge of the School swimming pool, she knew she needed to check with Giles soon. See if either Buffy or Xander had gotten a hold of him, since, well, since she last checked.

Still, staring out over the still water, she felt drawn here. She wasn't quite sure why. Well, no. That wasn't true. She had a good idea.

She was here, because this is where he used to come when something really rankled him. He’d come here, swim a few laps, then drop whatever had been bothering him. Well, usually. Not in Angel’s case, but otherwise it was pretty much the case. Sometimes she’d watch him, if she could.

He’d always seemed so at peace. But now...Now something had happened. Something was bothering him. Something had changed. Something apparently supernatural. But he’d gone to Giles. And refused to talk to her. To even acknowledge her when she’d come to his door.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. But, well, she’d give him time. She just wished she could get a hold of Buffy.

Standing up, Willow sniffled slightly, giving one last glance to the serene and over chlorinated water, before beginning her trek back to Library.

))V((

(MON, 11/03, 11:01)

“What about now?” The unnatural voice that now belonged to Alexander Harris asked eagerly, her eyes shut firmly.

Not bothering to look up from his magazine, Rory shook his head, “Nope. Still a green bean.”

Her temples wrinkling slightly in concentration, she asked again a few minutes later, Now?”

“Nope. Kinda sad, I mean, as a Alien toddler thing, you could do this with your eyes closed, hands tied behind your back, while singing the national anthem, backwards.” Rory gave a small, put upon sigh, “Suppose your race could just get dumber with age.”

“Your race gets dumber with age.” Xander shot back, somewhat pathetically, as she continued to try to change shape, color, size, anything really.

“Good one kid. About on par with ‘I’m rubber, you’re glue!’ really.” Rory stated wryly, flipping a few pages in his magazine.

Ignoring the comment, for the moment at least, Xander tried to reach in, find something find something that felt ephemeral, mercurial. Neither of them knew what exactly they were looking for, but, Rory had a few ideas gleaned from people he ‘knew back in the day’. It wasn’t much. But it was what she had to go off of for now.

Suddenly she felt it, towards the pit of her stomach. It felt small, but seemed to have an almost watery quality to it. Changing constantly as it spun in place. Grabbing a hold, she tried to will a change, projecting a mental ‘image’ of Willow. One of the people she was most familiar with. She figured it was probably her best shot.

“Now?”

Glancing up from his magazine, Rory noticed the ashtray floating a few feet off the end table next to where he sat, grabbing at it, he gave a small amused snort, “No. That would be your telekinesis. Again.”

“....Crap.”

))V((

(MON, 11/03, 23:01)

He’d watched the house for the past few hours, he’d come just shortly after the sun had set. Her Mother’s car was there, he’d seen someone bustling about in the kitchen once or twice. So he knew someone was definitely there, though he hadn’t managed to get a look at who exactly.

She’d been too quiet these past few days. So unlike herself in that regard. No word to him. No word to the Watcher. Or even the red head.

No. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones.

Moving slowly, he kept to the shadows. It wouldn't be a good idea to let Joyce see him. That would lead to a line of questioning he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

With a few quick, well blacked jumps, he stood on the roof, just outside her window, glancing in, he found her light off. No sign of her on the bed.

Hmmm...

Placing his hand against the lower frame of the window, he slowly forced it up, until he had it up at its highest, a small click indicating it was now set in place.

Moving to enter the room, he stumbled back. Nearly losing his footing on the roof. Catching himself though. His eyes narrowed. That was odd.

Almost like...

Moving towards the window again, he slowly placed his hand against the frame, before attempting to push in. Nothing. He couldn’t move it so much as an inch into the room.

He’d been disinvited, somehow. How? Joyce, maybe? That could possibly explain why Buffy had suddenly cut off all communication, but it seemed an odd extreme, and he wasn't sure how either woman could have learned a complicated spell like that. And he knew Willow hadn't lied to him. So, she couldn't have done it.

The computer teacher maybe?

Hmm....

“Buffy?” He called out in a whisper to no response.

Waiting several minutes, he called again, “Buffy?”

Still nothing. Sitting back against the frame for a moment, he pondered the situation. At least one of the Summer’s women was home, probably both. Buffy wasn’t in her room, but he couldn’t enter the house itself. She didn’t respond to his voice. He could wait there until she did come to bed, but there was always the chance of Joyce spotting him in the intervening time.

Dammit.

Maybe he could leave a note? Patting his pockets though, he came up empty so far as paper or pens went. Sighing slightly, he supposed that was for the best. He would’ve had to figure out how to get the note somewhere visible in a room he couldn’t enter.

Jumping down quietly to the ground below, he scowled slightly as he walked away. He’d check back in a few days, if he didn’t hear any news from the Watcher.

))V((

(WED, 11/05, 22:03)

He’d followed her for nearly half an hour, and still, he was unsure whether or not to make a meal of her. He’d risen a few weeks ago. But after his initial feeding, a young man, member of the Sunnydale High Chess Club, were accurate, he’d laid low. Tried to take in the lay of how things ‘really were’ as obviously, his previous ‘self’ had been blind to the truth.

There were rumors. A blonde woman, or girl, beast, or warrior. That hunted the hunters, his kind, now. A predator of predators. Quaint, that, he thought. She was like unto a force of nature, most rumors agreed, and not to be taken lightly.

Of his own kind, there were only two names to fear, avoid, or look to it seemed. ‘Spike’ and Drusilla. But he was never much of a joiner in life. And so he’d avoided them as much as he was able. Feeding where he could, but avoiding their supposed haunts, and ‘territory’.

This girl, he’d spotted near the School. Part of the Slayers territory, it seemed. But with Dark hair done up in a pair of simple braids, and dark clothing, a pair of black slacks, a dark blue or black turtleneck, she didn’t match the descriptions associated with the Slayer or any of her ‘associates’.

But he couldn't help the small feeling welling up in the pit of his stomach.

Still, it had been well over a day since he last fed, and the picking were overly scarce. He did not want to starve, if that was possible for his kind. Or become like some of his more mindless brethren.

Moving with an inhuman speed just as the girl rounded a corner, coming along the side of one of the towns many cemeteries, he swung around, fangs barred, prepared to attack, until to see the girl standing there facing him, a bored look in her eyes that brought him up short.

“Finally decided to attack?”

He nodded dumbly.

“Good.” She remarked, a long knife slipping from the sleeve of her shirt into her hand, “I was getting bored.”

As the girl slashed at him, he ducked back, confused. Dodging strike after strike.

The girl was good. Obviously trained by someone. He noted, slamming his forearm against hers as she attempted a stab towards his internals.

He didn't know nearly enough to identify style, or just how much training. But still. He cursed himself. He should’ve gone with his gut. This was more of a risk then he was really willing to take.

Attempting a kick at the girls gut, suppressed a groan of pain as the girls elbow slammed painfully and powerfully down onto his knee, followed shortly by her knife.

Falling down to his single good knee, he found the knife at his throat before he could blink.

“Work for anyone?” She asked emotionlessly.

“No?” He offered, barest hints of panic starting to seep in. If she was this good would he be able to get away? She obviously didn’t know enough about vampires if she thought a knife to the throat would work. But still. She was damned dangerous.

“That’s unfortunate.”

He never saw the stake as it plunged into his heart. Turning on her heel, she continued to walk slowly into the night.

))V((

(WED, 11/05, 16:00)

“What about now?” It was getting close to time for Rory to leave, they’d made some headway the past couple days, but still, it seemed pretty hit or miss.

Looking at his niece, Rory let out a small sigh, “Well, you’re getting closer....” Eying the girl up and down, paying special attention to her face and hair, he added, “Though I don’t think us humans are really supposed to come in that shade of green.”

Glancing over at a mirror positioned at the far side of the room, she’d managed to take on roughly human proportions, and grow out a short crop of pale yellow hair, letting out a small growl though, she noted she still couldn’t seem to get her skin right, and her eyes just seemed to keep glowing red no matter what she did.

“Got a thing for blondes though, huh?” Rory added wryly, smirking, “Woulda thought ya preferred Red’s, what with that little minx you’ve kept around all these years. But eh, can’t really blame ya. Specially not with that Slayer.” 

Shooting her Uncle a dark look, Xander stated through gritted teeth, “I think you’re reading too much into this.”

“Nah, kid.” Rory grinned cheekily, “I’m reading just enough.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 02:02)

Several hours later and a few miles away, a pale blue, thoroughly inhuman abomination hung upside down from a tree, it’s hands, all six of them, nailed painfully to the tree trunk.

“Hywe, Athwe Ashee histe eone nodee?” It plead hoarsely in its native tongue.

Walking slowly around the tree, his captor responded coldly, in his own tongue, “Coutse foe Ratekae, uyoe redae skae eme ahtte? Ellte eme athwe uyore smartese antwe ithwe histe wonte?”

“Relsaye. Ehtye antwe hte Relsaye.”

With a dark smile, the woman unsheathed a long blade from her side, a moment later, the creatures head had fallen to the ground, leaving the rest of its body to hang.

Walking slowly away, she stated, “Let them try to take me.”


	3. It's a wonderful day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own squat insofar as any of the intellectual property played with in this fic goes. I.E. I do not own any part of BTVS or associated character, or the DCU, DCAU, or YJU or any of the works or creations of Charles Addams. The loose plot, might be mine. But I doubt it.  
> Feedback: Always welcome  
> Author’s Notes: Whelp, this is a little longer then I tend to prefer my chapters, might end up splitting it down the road when I come back through to polish things up. Couldn’t really find a good spot to do that now. Anyways...Showtime.

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 11:58)

Three black, unmarked SUV’s pulled up outside the First Bank of California Sunnydale Branch, almost completely blocking off the doorway.

A single man, his face covered by the hood of his jacket stepped out of the central Van, a slight spring to his step.

“Today...is gonna be golden.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 07:00)

“Yes, Sir. I’ll let you know if anything else comes to my attention. Will that be all?”

“Yes, I think it will be. Have a pleasant day Reginald, you know, I enjoy these talks of ours, they're always so enlightening.”

Setting the phone down in its cradle, the small, balding man gave a heavy sigh as he leaned back into his seat.

The intercom in the small, albeit well furnished office sounded suddenly, momentarily shocking the man before he answered, “Yes? What is it Mona?”

“Principal Snyder, Sir, you have a Visitor.”

“A...What? Who?” The man asked, he’d had no appointments made for this morning. No, so a visitor was more than a little unexpected and...worrisome. He was not one to forget the mistakes of others, particularly his direct predecessor.

“A...oh, he’s coming in sir, I should...” The woman was cut off suddenly as the door to his office opened, as he pushed back his chair, scared, for a moment, before he took the man standing there in. Tall, wearing a simple, and likely fairly cheap though well maintained black suit and tie, black, and his bald head shined slightly in the light from his office’s single window.

“Who...Who do you think you are? You don’t just go barging into a man's office! I...I should have you arrested!?” The man said, finding his nerve as the man had yet to make any threatening movements, simply standing there staring down at him passively.

“Principal Reginald Snyder?” The man's deep voice almost seemed to reverberate in the office as he spoke in a flat, almost emotionless tone.

“Y-Yes?” Principal Snyder squeaked. Losing his nerve almost as quickly as he’d gained it.

“Ah.” The man gave him a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I’m Detective Jones, currently on loan to the S.D.P.D., I need to speak with you.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 10:45)

The bell signaling the end of class had rung, most of the students had already left, though one remained, still sitting in front of her computer staring.

“Willow?” The teacher stated, in slight concern as she looked up and noticed her still there.

“Hmm?” The girl blinked, turning to face the computer teacher, “Yes Ms. Calendar?”

“Are you okay?” Moving out from behind her desk, the teacher tentatively approached her student.

Staring down sadly at her keyboard, the little redheaded girl shook her head slowly, “Not really.”

“What's wrong?” Pulling out a chair across from the girl, Jenny frowned slightly. She had a good idea, but she could tell that the girl needed to talk about it.

Willow stared blankly at the teacher for a few long moments, before replying in an almost defeated tone, “What isn’t?” Her shoulders slumping slightly, the girl continued, “Buffy’s cut everyone off, even Giles, her Mom wouldn’t even let me in to see her. Xander won’t even answer the phone, let alone the door. And...”

The girl stopped, drawing herself inward suddenly, staring off and away from the teacher, chewing lightly on her bottom lip.

“And?” Jenny prodded gently, placing a hand on the teens shoulder in an effort to provide what comfort she could offer, “You know I’m here for you, right?”

Staring pointedly at the wall, Willow gave a small nod, staying silent for a few moments, before finally starting her tone a mix of guilt and fear, “And...I’ve seen Xander’s uncle come in and out a few times from his place. That’s got me nervous. And....I’d been doing a bit of study, but...”

“Study?” Jenny arched a petite eyebrow, not entirely certain what the girls scholastic habits had to do with what she been talking about before.

Rubbing her hands down her arms nervously, Willow nodded, “Some of Giles books, a few I picked up from the Magic shop over on fifth, where he’s sent me to on errands once or twice.”

After a few quiet moments, the girl added almost too quietly for Jenny to catch despite the short distance between the two, “I wanted to offer....more. I’d started learning a few small...tricks.”

“Tricks?” The teacher scooted forward slightly, her face a mix of curiosity and apprehension at the girls choice of wording.

“Yes.” The girl nodded slowly, hesitantly, before offering with the barest hints of a smile, “Etheric levitation of non living matter.”

“...Telekinesis?” Jenny Calendar's eyes widened momentarily, somewhat impressed given the difficulty of the practice, “How long?”

“A...A few months.” The girl responded, somewhat sheepishly.

“Wow.” Jenny blinked, now thoroughly impressed, “Wow.”

“...” Willow stared down at the floor, her mouth opening once or twice as if she was about to say something. But she couldn't quite bring herself too.

Noticing the slightly forlorn look that had returned to the girls face, Jenny asked, once again concerned for the small lost little girl before her, “What’s wrong Willow?”

“I can’t...I can’t do it any more. Any of it.” The girl refused to look up at her, shame and embarrassment clear now in the girl's voice, “I can still feel it, I can almost taste the magic in the air, but I can’t.... I can’t touch it anymore. Not since they both disappeared...”

“Thats...” Jenny trailed, looking at the girl, seeing the fear, the hope, the need for answers in her eyes, “I’ll see what I can find out. I might have to bring this to Rupert though, If it’s too out of my depth, would that be okay?”

“I..I don’t want to bother him, please, with Buffy and Xander and..” Willow fretted slightly.

“Don’t worry. It won’t be right away if I do, but do I have your permission if I need to?” Jenny asked the girl tentatively.

The only daughter of Sheila and Ira Rosenberg just gave a little nod to that, before she started picking up her things.

“Okay. I’ll write you a note for next period, and don’t worry. We’ll get this all figured out.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 10:55)

Sorting through a few of the mornings returns, Giles looked up as the double doors of the library swung slightly open, grimacing just slightly as he saw the pint sized entrant, before greeting the man in best attempt at faking a cheerful demeanor, “Principal Snyder, sir, Pleasant morning, eh, um...”

“Not in the mood.” The small man stated grumpily, grimacing before he barreled on, “There’s a ‘Special Detective’ here, apparently he’s looking over old case files, anyways, he wants to speak with you.”

“Oh, um. Yes, that’s fine.” The librarian nodded, only a little concern at the prospect seeping into his voice.

“Right.” The little man nodded, before turning, calling towards the door, “Jones, you can come in you know?”

“Hmm...” A voice sounded from the hall, followed shortly after by the entrance of a rather large and imposing suited figure. Though the image was shattered, slightly, Giles noted by the friendly smile on the larger man's face, “My apologies, I was...distracted. Some of the artwork on display in the hallway, is...intriguing.”

“Yes, yes, whatever.” Snyder waved it off unpleasantly, “Detective Jones, this is Rupert Giles, our school librarian. I think the pair of you can take it from here, I’ve got work elsewhere that actually needs to be taken care of.”

Once the smallish man had left the pair, the librarian gave a small nod towards his office. Giving a nod of his own, the Detective followed, shutting the door behind him before each took a seat.

“So, Detective Jones, what may I do for you today?” The british man asked in as friendly a tone as he could muster.

“Please, call me John, Mr. Giles.” The other man responded with a slight chuckle.

“Rupert, then.”

The dark skinned man nodded, “Rupert, well, I believe Principal Snyder already informed you of why I am here today.”

Giles nodded at that, his features carefully guarded. He wasn't sure if he was being singled out, or if the Detective was planning to speak to multiple members of the staff. There had been a few close calls in the past year, but he was having a devil of a time trying to discern what would've drawn the Detective’s interest to him.

“Alright. Well then, I believe you started around the beginning of term last year?”

The librarian nodded, “Yes. That’s about right.”

“Right,” The other man smiled at that, before sliding a small notepad out of his pocket, flipping through a few pages, he began, “What can you tell me about Stephen Gregory?”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 12:01)

She had been starting to get a little concerned, her Daughter had withdrawn in upon herself again over the past year. Though that had changed, ever since Halloween. She wouldn’t talk about it. She didn’t avoid the questions, though, she just ignored them outright.

Something had changed in her, since Halloween. What though, She wasn’t sure.

This past year, ever since Hemery..The Asylum...The divorce... and then Sunnydale, she’d felt a chasm growing, separating her further and further from her daughter no matter how hard she struggled against it.

Joyce glanced up for a moment from her inner musings, noticing the line to the teller had moved forward a little, taking a few steps, she stopped again, waiting, as he mind returned to its troubles.

Since Halloween, she’d seen more of Buffy. The girl had rarely left the house at that. Her daughter was strong, stronger than most girls her age would be who’d been through everything she had. But she’d realized how close the edge she was. She’d pulled back in. And she seemed to be trying to find herself again. It was why she’d let her take a few days off, so long as she kept up her studies, Joyce knew at the least, if given that, she could allow her daughter time she might just desperately need.

The slamming of a pair of doors, followed shortly by the shattering of glass, ripped the Slayers Mother from her musing quite through, turning, she saw a large group of men, most of their faces covered, entering the bank, large caliber weapons in most of the men's hands.

“Hello, and a good and glorious morning to you good people of Sunnydale! Today, you will be witnesses to a good old fashioned robbery. How does that sound? Thrilling right? Yes, I know I’m right. Now, if you could all get on the floor, we’ll endeavour to keep things pleasant. No promises mind you.”, The leader, a man in slightly better clothes than the others, a pair of black probably tailored slacks, polished black leather boots, wearing a hooded black jacket with brown piping, stated cheerfully bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, a pair of gold plated handguns dangling from his hands.

As the crowd, herself included, swiftly moved to comply, Joyce heard the man mutter cheerfully to his companions, “How was that? Too much? No? Good!”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 15:00)

The final bell of the school day rang just moments before a small red headed missile shot into the library, quickly directing itself at the tall bespectacled British man looking through the card catalog.

From right beside Giles, Willow half asked, half plead, “Any word from them?”

Taking one long breath, and then a step away to get himself a smidgen more personal space, the Librarian looked down at the young woman, “Little. As I told you at lunch.”

Placing the few cards in his hands into one of his jacket pockets, he slowly walked towards the counter, “The last I heard from Xander, he thinks he has a lead on his situation, but he doesn’t want to get anyone's hopes up, and as such is keeping mum as to what it may be for the moment. My own contacts have yet to get back to me, so frankly, that’s about the only lead we have for the time being. Buffy...” The librarian trailed off, frowning slightly.

He had been worried for his Slayer. He’d received a call from her two days ago. But nothing before or since. And the call itself had been short. “I’m okay. I will return to school shortly. I will explain my actions then, if necessary.”

He wasn't honestly certain what had him concerned more, the terse nature of the call, or the fact Buffy had unprovoked actually offered to explain her actions. “Buffy should be returning to school, by next week at the latest. But that’s all I’ve heard.”

“Tomorrow, actually.” A familiar voice, if less emotional than was common, called from the libraries main entrance.

Looking up, it took Giles a moment to recognize the figure standing there. His slayer, for as long as he’d known her, had favored bright colors, ‘trendy’ if impractical clothing, and a bright blonde mop of hair that he’d never been quite certain was natural.

The woman he found himself staring at however, had jet black hair pulled tightly back into a pair of braids, wore simple black jeans, a pair of plain if sturdy looking workmans boots, a plain black t shirt, and a black leather jacket.

“Buffy?!” Willow squawked, partly in glee, partly in surprise, and maybe just a little in shock and confusion.

“Yes?” The raven haired girl glanced slowly towards Willow, her face and tone unreadable, “Were you expecting someone else?”

Willow blinked at that, before her thoughts barreled forward and she started her third favorite hobby, asking questions, “What’d you do to your hair? Where have you been? Was it related to Halloween? Have you talked to Angel? HaveyouseenXander? Areyousureyou’reBuffy?”

Cutting her off with a slight glare, Buffy stated curtly, “I need to speak with Giles. If Xander’s been misplaced, we can discuss that later.”

“Oh.” Willow blinked. Suddenly uncertain at how she was being received by her friend, had she crossed some line she didn't know about? Dammit, other than Amy she hadn't had many female friends, and well Amy had been...

Shaking herself, Willow decided to take a step back, and see if she could glean some answers from Buffy’s talk with Giles.

Turning to the librarian, Buffy nodded towards the weapon cage. Giving a slight nod of his own, Giles moved towards it, asking as he walked, “Any preference?”

“Fencing foils, or Rapiers if you have them.” The now apparently dark haired girl responded unenthusiastically.

Giles turned slightly at that, raising a curious eyebrow, before shaking his head and continuing on. A few moments later returning to the main room, tossing a foil to the girl.

“Engarde.” He called, as he moved into a ready stance.

Catching the blade in mid-air, she shifted her momentum bringing the mock blade down and immediately lunging for a vital, “Do you know who I dressed as?”

Dancing back, just barely avoiding the strike, Giles response was slow in coming, “No. I’m afraid It didn't occur to me to ask, I’d been more worried this past week with you and the lad having decided your Schooling was optional.”

Following the man's steps, she attempting a quick slash, only to have it parried, having to bend to avoid Giles own counter strike, and then push forward for another lunge, “Given the nature of the education in this establishment? Well, other then in this library. I’d say it should be. Pitiful.” She gave a small disgusted snort at that, “I retained much of who I dressed as. Her history, her views...” She was forced to stop speaking so she could concentrate as Giles attempted a complicated slash, stab, slash, lunge combo as he weaved away from her own lunge, he remarked, “Truly? You do seem different.”

Crouching low, and rolling back, before flipping to her feet just a few feet from where Willow was sitting, Buffy continued, “I am. And I am getting to that. I retained much of who she was.” Flicking her head slightly, she glanced at her own hair, “Including her hair color. She and I...we were alike, and different. What was left of her forced me to...see things I didn't wish to. To make certain decisions. I needed time to decide who I am, and who I was going to be moving forward. And I couldn't do that in this environment.”

“Indeed?” Rupert asked curiously, holding back, keeping his guard up as he waited for her next strike, “Who did you dress as? You've got me genuinely curious now.”

Willow, while the two had talked, had slowly developed a look of complete awe, culminating in an excited squeal as Giles asked his question, “WEDNESDAY!”

“Thursday, actually.” The librarian returned, with a bemused if slightly confused smile as he parried a quick set of strikes from the slayer.

“No.” Buffy stated, mixing in a few feints as she did, “She had it right. I dressed as Wednesday Friday Addams.”

The librarian stopped suddenly, receiving a quick jab in his throat followed by his kidneys, groin, chest, with the foil finally coming to rest against his forehead, “Dead. Or at least dying, painfully.” The last word was said with the barest hints of a smile.

Standing there, Giles slowly looked towards his Slayer, worry clear in his voice as he asked, “I assume it was the more modern Wednesday you channeled?”

“Her memories would suggest that, yes.” The former blonde nodded.

“.....You have the memories of an Addams.” Giles mused slowly, his tone slightly guarded but tinged with amusement, “That is a frightening prospect.”

Buffy’s smile grew slightly, “Agreed.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 11:30)

Three successive loud knocks at the front door quickly caught Rory’s attention, causing him to look up for a moment, before turning back to his current ‘pupil’, “I’ll answer that. Just try to see if you can hold that form till I get back, okay Kid?”

Xander glanced down for a moment, before nodding once, her current crop of short blonde hair bobbing up and down slightly as she did.

Walking slowly to the door, Rory peeked through the peep hole, spotting a tall, bald, black man in a suit on the other side.

Shaking his head slightly, he muttered to himself irritably, “Suits. Never a good sign.”

Opening the door, he stated slowly, “Harris residence, can I help you...”

The other man blinked slowly, as he stared at him, seemingly taking his measure before speaking, “I am Detective John Jones, is Alexander Harris home?”

“Xander?” Rory blinked, a bit shocked this apparent cop was looking for the kid and not Tony. That was a switch. “No. Kids with his parents visiting some relatives up north.”

“Ah. Unfortunate.” The detective stated a slight frown now creasing his lips, before asking, “You would be?”

“Regan, Rory Regan.” Offering his hand tentatively to the other man, the Detective just stared at it for a moment, before slowly reaching out and giving it a brief shake. “I’m watching the place for the family while their on their trip. I’m Tony’s brother. Xander’s Uncle.”

 

The officer’s eyes drifted back towards a girl who’s short mop of blonde hair was just barely peeking out from around the hallway at the end of the entryway. Looking at the other man, Detective Jones raised a curious eyebrow, giving a slight nod toward the girl.

Turning slightly, Rory spotted Xander, quickly offering as he did, “Regan, my, uh, Daughter. Visiting me for a bit, while her Mom’s off with her new Boytoy.”

Eyebrow still raised, Johns asked dryly, “You named your Daughter, Regan Regan?”

“Yes.” Rory nodded agreeably, a small smile on his face.

“You are...”

“Ex’s idea. Not mine. She’s got a...unique sense of humor.” Rory cut the man off, offering an explanation, pathetic as it was.

“Indeed.” The detective agreed slowly, before reaching into his jacket, removing a card under Rory’s wary eye, before handing it to the other man, “Here. When Alexander returns, have him call me. As I said, he is not in trouble, but It’s not something I can discuss without having him present.”

“Right.” Rory nodded, stuffing the card into one of his pockets.

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 12:08)

“The vault codes, and your keys, please and thank you.” The leader of the bank robbers demanded, looking down at the official at his feet.

“I d-don’t know! A-and I wouldn’t t-tell you if I d-did!!” The bank manager, a tall, lanky, balding man, stuttered defiantly.

“Hmm?” The hooded man stared down at him, “Aww, don’t talk like that!” Pulling the man up slightly by his collar, the crook continued in the same pleasant if chiding tone, “I mean, here I am, trying my darnedest to be a golden ray of sunshine to you all. Brightening up your days, giving your sadly boring lives a bit of a thrill, something to tell the grandkids about someday and you’re trying to put a damper on things.”

The man shook his head sadly, before suddenly slapping the man hard upside the head with the butt of one of his pistols, the impact throwing him back to the floor, and eliciting a small steady dribble of blood “It’s so impolite.”

“Shoot me then! Kill me! I w-won’t be party to t-this!” The man spat back trying to put on a brave face, as he stared fearfully at one of the other man's guns.

“Oh no, no. I mean, what would that accomplish? Nothing, that’s what. Not a thing. And it would create such a mess. No, besides, plain old murder is so passe.” The hooded man shook his head sadly at the thought, before his gaze turned to those still huddled on the floor of the bank. Walking slowly towards one, a woman in a pale blue sundress, he knelt down beside her, “Hi. I’m terribly sorry miss, but I’m going to need your assistance, I hope you don’t mind.”

The woman looked up with fear in her eyes, as she was pulled firmly to her feet. Pulling off one of his gloves, the man placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, as he looked at the man, “Last chance to change your mind. 5-4-3...”

The man just growled impotently from where he lay as the other man counted down.

“2-1.” The hooded thief turned to look at the woman, his voice apologetic as he said simply, as her body suddenly went rigid, “Sweet dreams. May they be filled with wonders beyond imagining.”

Unable to move, unable to so much as blink, the woman could only feel a faint numbness as from beneath his hand a shiny golden film slowly seeped over her, spreading up and down her arm until it was covered, moving along her torso, stretching further and further until where once had been a woman now stood a grotesque golden statue.

Pulling back his hood, the man's face and hair held a similar metallic sheen as he glared back at the bank manager as he moved towards another woman further back in line, “Now, I really just did not want to do that.”

Joyce Summers stared up in fear at the approaching figure, trying to edge away as it came closer to where she lay. The fear in her only growing as he came to a stop just next to her.

“Now.” He lifted another woman, this one in a dark blue turtleneck and black slacks, a dirty blond woman, to her feet. He looked at her, “If you would, my lovely lady, I would have your name?”

“Joyce..” Joyce Summers whispered as she was drawn to her feet by the golden skinned criminal.

“Now, my good man, I don’t want to hurt Ms. Joyce here. Gorgeous woman that she is, it would just be a shame wouldn't it? So, please, the codes and your keys.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 12:09)

“Marvina, and now Regan Regan?” The ‘blonde girl’ chuckled as she approached her Uncle once the officer had left, “I’m starting to understand why you don’t have pets.”

“Shut it.” Rory growled, stalking back towards the living once he’d shut the door.

“Ah, but here I had this whole joke about a dog named Ruff and a Cat named Puss ready to go!” The girl laughed as she followed, “So, what’s next? Telekinesis Training? More Shapeshifting? Oooh, I know...Flying! Right?”

Shaking his head, Rory closed the door, moving back to the living room where he picked up his jacket, “No. Now I’ve gotta hurry down to Willy’s and see if I can get ahold of some of my old Contacts.”

“Huh? Why?”

Rolling his eyes as he slipped into his coat, Rory replied sarcasm all but dripping from his tone, “Oh, I don’t know. Let me think. The little fact Regan Regan doesn't currently legally exist maybe? I’ve gotta see about changing that before Officer Bald-as-a-babies-butt-cheeks gets curious.”

“Oh.” The girl blinked.

“Yeah, real ‘Oh’, I need to get them to do a real rush job, and make you exist. Or at least exist enough to keep him from being suspicious. Or it’ll be a real ‘Oh shit’, given I don’t think Detective Jones’ll be real happy if he finds out old Rory lied about having a daughter.” Rubbing his wrists, Rory groaned, “And thanks to Tony’s penchant for starting fights he couldn't finish any time I took him out for a drink, I've seen more than my fair share of Jail cell interiors for this lifetime.”

“Hey! It’s not...” ‘Regan’ started to defend her unknowingly adoptive father, only to be cut off almost immediately by her Uncle’s glare.

“He’s never been in a bar with you that I know of. Do not defend my brother and his bouts of public stupidity to me, when I've got first hand knowledge of it while you don’t, kid.” Walking towards the door with his jacket now on, Rory continued, “He can be a good guy, he can be a real ass too. As you know. Just happens, that the ass has a bad habit of coming out when I take him for a drink. Anyways, I’ll probably be back later today kid, or Tomorrow at the latest. Probably need to get a picture of you as ‘Regan’ when I come back so try to memorize the shape you’re in now real good.”

Xander nodded a bit self consciously rubbing the back of her head, watching her uncle leave from the doorway, only closing the door once his car was out of sight down the road.

“...I should write down that ruff and puss joke. Never know when he might give me an opening again.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 12:20)

No. No. No. No. No. No. Joyce Summers mind repeated the word over and over as she was dragged out of the bank by the golden skinned man.

No. She would not allow this. She would not go quietly. She would not die. She would not leave her daughter. No.

NO.

Without thought, or intent, one of her knees struck out, slamming into the man's crotch, sending him first up, slightly, then too the ground.

Stumbling back, away, she saw a few of the thugs turn from where they’d been loading up the suv’s.

“Hey!” One shouted.

A pair of arms suddenly encircled her waist, pulling her back, towards the bank, inside, rushing her out of sight of the door, and against one of the walls just as she heard the brief eruption of gunfire from outside.

The gunfire was followed by muffled arguing, and finally she heard the sound of distant sirens growing closer. The police. It was followed shortly by the squealing of several sets of tires.

Letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, Joyce turned towards the man who had helped her escape. He was just slightly taller then her, with chestnut brown hair, and some of the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, he seemed to be trying to smile down comfortingly towards her.

“W-who are you?” Was all she could finally get out through the shock of the whole experience.

“Hmm?” The man responded smartly, before his mind seemed to catch up to the question, “Oh, sorry, names Ted, Ted...”

The man was cut off as the already battered double doors of the bank burst open, one just finally giving up, falling to the floor with a dull thud as its hinges gave out. Several officers began filling the bank, a few with their guns drawn as they looked around.

Huddled next to the man, Joyce just barely heard him mutter wryly under his breath, “Well, better late than never, I suppose.”


	4. ...In the Neighbourhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own squat insofar as any of the intellectual property played with in this fic goes. I.E. I do not own any part of BTVS or associated character, or the DCU, DCAU, or YJU or any of the works or creations of Charles Addams, J.K. Rowling, or S. Meyer. The loose plot, might be mine. But I doubt it.  
> Feedback: Is appreciated...(most of the time)  
> Author’s Notes:A few quick, simple notes, this is an (expanded) version of the YJverse crossed with the Buffyverse. I don’t want to spoil much, but I have and will add tweaked bits from the main DCU to flesh things out here and there. And this is and will continue to be an AU of the Buffyverse. Pretty much all of Season one is canon, but there are some background changes I've made in the general history to fit in the YJverse or otherwise better integrate things.

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 15:30)

‘My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt -- sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.’, Angel dropped his book to his lap, staring blankly at the wall across from him, a slight frown tugging at the edges of his lips.

“Don’t think about her.” He muttered to himself, “She’s okay.”

His eyes slowly shifted down, staring at one of his carpets, some strange script embroidered along its borders, letting a sigh slip out, “This isn't working."

Standing up, he set the book down on the chair he’d vacated, not bothering to mark his place. Pacing across the area in front of his chair, he muttered, “I need something. Something distracting. I can’t keep thinking about her, it won’t help.”

“Maybe...”, His eyes sought out the large antique cabinet at the far end of the room. Finding it, allowing himself a very small smirk as a few memories came to him, before the frown returned and he let his thoughts continue, “No, wouldn't help. Not here, anyways.”

After several more minutes of pacing, he managed to reach a decision, “I need to hit something.” Glancing over at the nearest clock, an antique little thing he vaguely remembered picking up during the late fifties, the vampire grunted, “Too Early. Speed bag it is then, I guess.”

“I’ll check on her tonight.” He nodded to himself, heading back towards his bedroom.

Letting out a dark chuckle, the vampire smiled very slightly, “If she’s not there, maybe I’ll visit Spike.” Cracking his knuckles, he continued to chuckle at the thought. “Yeah, that definitely sounds like a plan.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 17:02)

A slight, short haired blonde girl in clothes several sizes too big for her, sat cross legged in the center of the Harris households living room. Pressing her thumb and forefinger together, she began to chant, “Oom, Oom....on the range, where the deer and the antelopes play.”

Holding a hand to her mouth the blonde attempted to stifle the giggle that followed. Straightening her posture after a few moments of ‘not giggling’, she held her hands together in her lap as she attempted to make another go of it.

Taking a deep breath, the girl began to talk to herself, “Okay Xander, just remember what Uncle Rory said. Slowly let the world drop away. I am all that matters. Just me, myself and I.”

After several quiet minutes had passed, the only sound in the room being Xander’s rhythmic breathing, the girl continued, “Have you let the world drop away? Good. Idiot.”

After another quiet moment, the girl added somewhat drily, “Note to self, edit that last part of Uncle Rory’s monologue out of future repeats.”

Straightening slightly in her seat, the girl continued once again, “Now shift your gaze inward. Look into yourself. You are your own world. There is nothing beyond you. Changing shape is a part of what you are. It is natural. It is like air. It is a sense onto itself. Or at least I’m guessing it is.” Frowning slightly, the girl coughed, “Probably should edit that out too.”

“You will feel it. Don’t rush. Just feel for it. It will come to you, not you to it.”

A few feet from the girl, the Television suddenly began to bounce very slightly in place.

“No. That’s telekinesis. Again. Delve deeper, and let it come to you. Let it wash over you as you become at one with yourself.”

The girl’s skin seemed to ripple and writhe where she sat, slowly losing it’s pale tan, and taking on a deep, green hue, as her limbs began to thin and elongate.

“Good. Good. Now for the hard part, proving Uncle wrong.” The girl continued smiling broadly. “Think Boy. A Five foot ten, one hundred and eighty seven pound boy with black hair and a face like a greek god.”

The rippling and shifting intensified more, and more with each passing moment, her limbs stretching in random places, her chest growing, shrinking, growing, her head deforming into a number of bizarre shapes. Then, something seemingly snapped, and the girl collapsed onto her back screaming out in sudden pain, her head shape shifting into a semi-conical dome, slimming down, her eyes shut tight, her shoulders shrinking down slightly, as the rest of her proportions finally settled into an only semi-human state.

Several painful breaths later, the girl reached a three fingered hand up to wipe the sweat off her face as she groaned, “Ouch, and might I add, Ouch.”

Sitting up a few minutes later, clutching a hand to her side, the girl muttered a bit sadly, “Okay, Xander. Advanced self study? Probably not a good idea yet.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 19:11)

“First the lad gets himself bollixed into a demon,” Grumbling darkly to himself, Rupert Giles made his way across the Sunnydale High parking lot towards where he’d left his Citroen. “Now this...”

Getting into the car, Giles rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment, “Addams, good god in heaven.”

“These children are going to be the death of me…” Giles sighed, heavily, as he put his keys into the ignition and turned, finishing the sigh with a muttered “if not literally, figuratively, at the very least.”

Nothing. The car refused to so much as sputter.

After taking a few breaths, giving it a moment, he turned them again, while giving it some gas.

Nothing

Hitting the dash once, he turned the keys a third time, while giving it some gas, and his Citroen started right up.

“I need a drink.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 15:40)

They’d questioned her, first a Detective by the name of Stein, before his partner a Detective Warner had taken over. She’d told them everything she could think of that might have been important. And once they were satisfied they’d left her sitting in the lobby of the Sunnydale Police Station.

Unfortunately, Her status of as a ‘person of interest’ meant she’d have to wait a little while before they’d let her head home. Probably with an escort if Detective Warner was to be believed.

At least they’d let her call her daughter, though Buffy hadn't picked up which had her a little concerned. Still, she’d left a message, and all she could do now was wait.

“Here.” Joyce Summers blinked, looking up from her seat into the pale blue eyes of the man who’d pulled her back into the bank only a few hours before, “Thirsty?”

Joyce looked down at the paper cup the man was holding out to her, slowly reaching out, “Thank you...”

Taking the seat next to her as he watched the woman sniff at the coffee out of the corner of his eye, the man gave her a small encouraging smile, “More than welcome.”

Taking a small sip, Joyce leaned back in her seat, cradling the drink between her hands as she stared up at the pale white walls of the police station.

“So...”

Joyce turned her head slowly to look at the man sitting next to her raising a single curious eyebrow, “So?”

“A needle pulling thread,” The man joked, a small grin growing on his face. Looking back at Joyce, the man seemed to notice the way her shoulders were slumping slightly as she stared down off into the middle distance. Running a quick hand through his mop of brown hair, before he got a little more serious showing a bit of concern as he leaned towards the woman, “But yeah, how are you holding up?”

Looking down at her coffee, the dark haired woman fought back a frown, keeping her lips a thin line as she thought over the question, before finally responding, “Okay, a bit shaken, I suppose. And Angry. But I’m more worried about my daughter at this point, then I am about what happened.”

“Oh?” Ted responded, showing a bit of interest, “You’ve got a daughter?”

Joyce nodded, “Buffy Anne, you?”

Shaking his head, the blue eyed man chuckled, “Can’t say that I do, probably a good thing though. I’d hate to inflict my sense of humor on a child.”

Joyce giggled slightly at that, covering her mouth with one of her hands, until she’d gotten control of herself again, “Oh, I don’t know. You kind of remind me of someone I know.”

“....My condolences?” The man deadpanned, with the barest hints of a grin tugging at his face.

Joyce was laughing so hard, she barely managed to keep from spilling her coffee after that one. At least until a soft cough from just in front of her, brought her back to reality.

Wiping the tears from her vision, she looked up from her seat to find herself faced with a tall, no, scratch that, a really tall black man in a suit. A detective she assumed. Running a hand through her hair, she asked once she was fairly sure she had control of herself, “Yes?”

“Joyce Summers, I presume?” The man stated simply, looking down at her, his face unreadable.

Nodding, Joyce found herself starting to feel a bit uncomfortable under the mans gaze, when she found a comforting hand resting on her shoulder, turning, she gave Ted a small smile, before looking back up at the man looming over her, “Yes. That’s me, how can I help you, officer?”

“I’m Detective John Jones, I’d like to ask you a few questions.” The man stated simply.

Joyce grimaced slightly, she’d had to relive what had happened, the fear, several times already, and thinking about going over it again with another stranger, it made her stomach churn just a bit, “Are you certain? I’ve...I’ve already been questioned about what happened at the bank, I’m not sure what else I can add?”

“No,” The man shook his head, stepping back slightly, “My apologies. I did not mean about that incident. No, I’d like to ask you a few questions about your daughter.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 19:40)

Leaning forward in his stool, Rory Regan had a small smile on his face, it was the sort of smile that made children cry, and stopped grown men in their tracks, or in this case, caused the Bartender before him to pale significantly.

Polishing the pub glass in his hand fervently, the dark haired weasel of a man stuttered, “D-d-don’t worry! It’ll be handled. Rush job. Promise. Untraceable!”

Rory let out a small derisive snort at that, but eventually nodded his acceptance before responding in a dark tone, “Good, good. Glad to see even after all this time, you haven’t forgotten our understanding, William. Wouldn’t have wanted to get my hands dirty, or God forbid, call in ol’ Danny boy. No. You don’t want to see him again, do you?”

“Right.” Willy nodded eagerly, “An understanding. Exactly. Good for business those, dont’cha think?”

Shaking his head slightly, Rory grinned a slightly more pleasant one than had been on display earlier, laying a couple of bills on the counter, “Right. Why don't you make me a double, and yourself one too, my treat?”

Taking the money, with another nod, the Bartender turned around quickly going to work. Rory’s attention turned towards the street entrance into the bar, as another man entered the establishment. Recognizing the figure he chuckled slightly.

The librarian, looked like he was having a hell of a day too boot. Made him almost feel a bit bad for the neighborhood snitch. Glancing at Willy out of the corner of his eye though, he quickly lost said feeling.

“Hello Regan.” The librarian grunted, slipping into the stool next to his, before calling out to the Bartender, “Something hard, and for the sake of my sanity not American.”

“Right.” Willy nodded, slipping Rory his glass, as he turned back to the bottles behind him again.

“Rupert,” Rory chuckled slightly, “Been a while.”

“Quite. Why are you here?” The Watcher asked, a bit of an edge to his tone, if a weary one.

Rory shrugged, taking a small pull from his glass before he explained, “Family Business. Literally, for once.”

“Ah. That brother of yours again?” The librarian offered, taking his own glass from the bartender as he turned back around.

“Not quite. Nephew...sort of. Actually.” The older man responded, a slight chuckle to his tone and a very small smile now pulling at his lips.

“Nephew? I don’t believe you’ve...” Rupert stopped his features darkening, his weary mind at work for a moment before he palmed his face, muttering morosely, “You’re that Uncle Rory aren't you? You’re speaking of Alexander...”

A shit eating grin on his face, Rory nodded to the other man, mirth clear in his tone, “Heh, Finally put that one together, Didja?”

Giles groaned at that, downing the contents of his glass as he slumped slightly in his seat, “I suppose it at least explains a few things about the boy. His humor, especially. Do you know about...”

Rory nodded, giving a pointed glance towards where Willy was pouring a drink for another patron at the other end of the bar, “Yeah. Hell of a situation, isn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed..” The watcher nodded, keeping his gaze from turning, understanding clear in his voice, “I don’t suppose you have any leads on what’s going on, do you?”

Rory let out a small sigh at that, giving the other man a measured look for a moment before. Finally, he asked slowly, “Don’t watch much television these day?”

“Can’t say as I've had the chance,” Giles sighed, “I suppose that statement is supposed to be leading me somewhere?”

“Call me when that stuff gets in.”, Rory called out at the bartender, giving a nod to Willy, before looking back at the Watcher and offering simply, “Have the kids little red headed friend look up the Justice League some time. All I’m saying. Want anything else, talk to the kid.”

Giles watched the man leave with a thoughtful look.

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 20:09)

“Anyways, talked to Amy a bit the other day. She’s doing a little better since, well, since last year. Staying with her dad now, he seems nice. An Accountant. He was cyber commuting, though he’s saying now the Company he works for is talking about setting up a local office. She, says she hasn’t seen or heard from Xander either.” Ignoring the chipper voice chattering away over the blue tooth in her ear, the dark haired Slayers eyes focused on the street below her. She’d spotted it maybe a block and a half from City Hall. It was trying to stick to the shadows, and she supposed it was doing something of an admirable job of it. If it hadn’t been for one small factor.

Yes, it was small, probably half a head shorter than her, she mused, as she watched it jog across the street, ducking momentarily behind a trash can at the side of a bus stop.

“Oh, did you hear about what happened at the Bank today? Looks like there was a robbery. Hmm, guns, oooh...ewwww. Some lady got turned into a statue. Do you think it was a demon? I think it might’ve been. Don’t usually do anything that public. Guess it could just be one of those ‘Super-villain’ types, though they usually leave Sunnydale alone. Can’t really remember any coming here before. Strange. Huh.” A slight affirmative sounding grunt and a small grimace were the only reactions the girl gave as she moved down a few roofs.

She crouched, watching it, silently adjusting the simple black blouse she wore as she stared down at it. it almost looked human from a distance, the dark clothing and hooded sweatshirt helped a bit. Despite what appeared to be a pair of insect like antennae shoved beneath the hood.

No. The single factor that really just made the efforts of the beast below her pointless, was it’s road cone orange skin, and the very slight glow said skin gave off. That was just a little hard to miss.

“Oh, you remember Larry Blaisdell, right? Captain of the Football team? You slammed him against the soda machine in the cafeteria last week? I overhead Harmony, you know, Cordelia’s chief minion, talking to one of the other minions, and it sounds like he, well, quit the team, that’s kind of odd isn’t it?”

“Yes.” The slayer responded, her voice just barely over a whisper as she slipped quietly off the side of the roof, and down into the alley beside the building she’d been perched on a moment before, the dark haired slayer whispered quietly into her Bluetooth, “Willow, shhhh.” While she watched the demon slip out from behind the trash can, making its way further down the street.

Silently slipping the short sword out of the sheath on her back, a dark, almost feral smile crossed the Slayers face as she jogged after the monster.

Turning back at the sound of footsteps behind it, the creature spotted it, it’s eyes visibly widening for a moment, before it turned around, putting all its speed into running away from its pursuer.

Buffy’s grin only grew, silently keeping pace with the demon as it ran from her, frantically searching the street for any escape.

It ducked down an alley, throwing a trash can into her path. Hopping over it, she kept up her quiet pursuit, watching as it tried to scramble up a fire escape, only to turn back, seeing her, and break for a side street.

A final burst of speed, and the slayer pounced, tackling the creature to the ground, pinning it there, she held her blade to its throat, a dark gleam in her eyes as she asked in a dark yet playful tone, “Have you ever played ‘Is there a god?’”

“BUFFY! NO!”

He eyebrow twitching irritably, the slayer reached up, shutting off the Bluetooth before looking back at the monster she had pinned, noticing a small metallic lump jutting from beneath its collar, she reached in, pulling out a small pendant.

An almost feral grin crossed her features, as she hissed, “Hoe, nethorae coutse?”

))v((

(THU, 11/06, 20:23)

Having been in the process of looking over her lesson plans on her laptop, Jenny Calender was more than a bit caught off guard when the screen was suddenly taken over by the image of a mop of lime green hair, "So, what do you think?"

"....Bwa?" Jenny replied as intelligently as her thought processes allowed at the moment.

Moving back away from the camera, allowing her full face to come into view on the screen, a young girl, late teens at the oldest, giggled at the response, "Better then Dee! Ha! Great huh? I think it really suits me!"

Adjusting her position slightly on the couch, Jenny let out a long suffering sigh as she stared at the video chat window, offering, "Well, Bru,....It's better then the bald look you tried a few years ago?"

"Hey, I made bald beautiful! Like Sinead o'Connor!" The girl shot back, giving the woman a raspberry for good measure.

“Yes, and that’s why you spent more than half a year wearing various cosplay wigs whenever you went out.” Jenny rolled her eyes, at the newly minted ‘Limettes’ reaction.

“No. I did that, because Cat ears made me look hot.”

“Don’t even start.” Jenny warned, taking a quick swig from a nearby glass, before continuing, “What’s going on though? Other than your apparent need to match lawns everywhere? Haven’t heard from any of the family recently.”

“Yeah. Okay. You know you love my hair, probably wish you’d thought of dying your hair green first. Still. Nothing really. Apparently some of our more ‘touched’ cousins had some weird dream a few nights ago, think it might have been a what was the phrase Big E used... ‘Psychic Somethin’er other’ But no leads. And really the family seems more concerned with something ‘else’ right now.”

“Something else?” Jenny raised an eyebrow, “That’s...”

“Not normal?” Bru offered with a grin.

“Bingo.”

Bru nodded, digging around just outside the camera’s view, before pulling a rubiks cube into view she began to play with, “Right. Yeah. Looks like the old-farts are on the move again. And two of their Grand Mugwumps are apparently getting ready to take a trip. From what I understand, we’re still trying to figure out where. Though....”

“You don’t think?”

Bru gave the older woman another raspberry at the comment, shooting back petulantly, “I do think, thank you very much. But in this one, I don’t know. Those old men are harder to predict than our old men. Anywho, hows things going with your little ‘English’ friend, hmmmmmm?”

Letting out a snort at the sudden shift in subject, Jenny responded “Nothing. He had to get a rain-check on our date, after some problem with his ward popped up.”

“So that’s what we’re calling them these days.” Bru responded suggesting, a Cheshire grin spreading across her face.

“Oh, shut up. I do not need that image in my head. Anyway, it’s getting a bit late, and I’ve still got a few things to prepare for classes tomorrow, so I’ll have to talk to you later.”

“Hey, before you go, I heard from Dee, that ‘someone's’ looking at land in and around the LA area, might wanna keep your eye out, make sure it isn't someone poking their nose where they shouldn't. Oh, and there’s this awesome club in downtown L.A. you should take him too, I’ll email you the address later. Ciao baby.” The limette offered, before cutting off the connection from her end.

Closing her laptop, Jenny Calender sat for a few moments, a small smile on her face. “A club huh? He might just respond better to that than a monster truck rally.”

))V((

(THU, 11/06, 23:10)

“Buffy...”

The dark haired Slayer looked up just as she’d stepped onto her porch. The voice had been barely above a whisper, but she’d heard it. Shaking her head after a moment, she took another step towards the door.

A rustling sound from the side of the house grabbed her attention again, before a familiar black clad figure emerged from the shadows, “Is that you?”

Turning towards Angel, the Slayer spent a moment visibly contemplating the question before she responded dryly, “No.”

“No that’s not you?” The Vampire stopped, a little gobsmacked by the answer.

“Yes.” The woman gave a faint nod, folding her arms beneath her chest, as she stared down at him impassively.

“I’m...” The vampire stopped, staring down, going back over the very breif conversation, before looking back up, worry and confusion etched across his features, “I’m confused.”

Looking down at the man, the Slayer just gave him a small shrug, “So am I.”

“Why?” The man looked up at her, the worry having all but replaced the confusion in his eyes, “Buffy, what’s wrong?”

For the barest hints of a moment, the vampire could have sworn he saw a smile flicker across the girls features, but it was gone before he could be certain, the cold indifference back in full as she responded, shaking her head slightly, “Nothing is wrong, different, yes. But not wrong. Something happened. Now I’m adapting.”

The dark haired vampire paused at that, a bit surprised at the use of a word outside of her usual vocabulary, at least one she didn't make up. Shaking himself slightly, he found her eyes again, “Is it something you can tell me about?”

This time he was sure he saw a small wistful smile on her face as she shook her head slightly, before stating cooly, “No, not really. I’m not who I was, but I’m working out who I’m going to be.”

“Oh...” The vampire ran a hand along the back of his neck while he mulled that over, “I’m here if you want to talk...”

“I know.” The girl turned back towards the door, “But right now, that’s not what I need.”

The vampire turned, moving back towards the street whispering to himself, though he knew she’d hear it, “Let me know when it is.”

Closing and locking the door behind her, Buffy scowled slightly, glancing back once at the door, before moving towards the kitchen.

“Buffy?”

The Summers scion stopped in place, as her mother stepped through the entrance-way of the kitchen, a weary look about her as she sighed, “We need to talk...”

“About?” The younger woman arched a single eyebrow, the only sign of her curiosity.

“I was at the bank today...” Joyce trailed off, glancing towards the television.

Remembering Willow’s words earlier, the Slayer's eyes widened slightly, looking her mother over quickly from where she stood, she reassured herself that no visible harm had come to her. “You’re not hurt?”

Joyce shook her head, turning back towards the kitchen, “No. You heard about what happened?”

Taking a seat across from her mother at the kitchen table, the dark haired girl nodded slightly, stating simply, “Willow.”

“Ah.” Joyce nodded knowingly, a small smile on her face, “How’s she doing?”

Buffy gave a small shrug, “Alright. Xander has driven her into a bit of a panic. But otherwise the same.”

“You did too, I’d wager.”

“Possible.” A small smile lit the slayers face at that thought, before turning more serious, “Tell me about what happened?”

“Well...”

))V((

Wells, England, U.K.  
(FRI, 11/07, 0:01)

Taking a seat across from his superior on the private jet, a small smile played across the young man's face, though it was quickly and viciously suppressed. The jet was nice, better than the ones owned by the organization he’d traveled on in the past. Then again, given who his supervisor was, and his family, that shouldn't have come as too much of a surprise he supposed.

After several silent minutes, the older gentlemen looked up from the book he’d been reading, a bit of light shining off his graying yellow hair with the movement, a single eyebrow raised, he asked dully, “Yes?”

“The pilot says everything is ready sir, he’s just waiting for your permission.” The young man replied quickly.

The older nodded slightly at that, going quiet for another few moments before he asked in a more interested tone emphasizing a single word with a hint of disgust, “What have the others had to say about his movements?”

“He’s a bit delayed, and apparently he’s scheduled a layover near Gotham. It’s believed he intends to speak with an acquaintance there before continuing on to the destination.”

The gray haired older gentleman nodded again, the barest hints of a smile tugging at the edges of his lips, “Good. That should give us the time we require.”

“Indeed.”


	5. I got cabin fever...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Elements of this story have been taken from BTVS, DCAU/DCU/YJU, and the work of Charles Addams, and are very much not owned by me. The plot...may be mine. But probably not, as it borrows from both Young Justice, Buffy, the General DCU, and at least inspirationally from both common literary and Fanfiction authors whose work I’ve enjoyed in the past.  
> Feedback: Is appreciated...(most of the time)  
> Author’s Notes: Thanks go out to OneWingedShark (FF.net’s Shark8) for help rewriting a pesky pair of John scenes in this chapter. On another note, there is no update schedule for this bit of fan fiction, some chapters will come quicker than others. On another note, I could not find an address, beyond some blurry numbering, for the Harris household. As such, I made one up, if however, my research is faulty and there is indeed one someone points out for me, I will endeavor to correct that in future versions of this chapter.

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 04:20)

The room was small, sparsely furnished, mostly comprised of a futon, a small beaten up dresser, and several cardboard boxes stacked neatly in a corner. The only occupant an oddly proportioned green skinned figure sitting at the edge of the futon, staring longingly as a pair of images alternated hovering over a small silver cube he held carefully between his not quite human like hands.

The first image was of a small form, an infant, barely discernible beneath the large blanket that covered it nearly head to toe, reminiscent of an Indian’s papoose, with only the face peeking out from the wrappings.. Still, he stared at it, his eyes tracing over the lines of the child’s face, its small button nose, and searching eyes.

The second was much different; where the other one had a great deal of sadness tinged with only a little joy, this carried a great deal of joy tinged with only a little sadness. The sheer happiness painted on the obviously alien woman’s pale green face was, and would always be, infectious. The woman seemed to dance in the air, a multicolored dress, layered and cut in a exotic, unearthly pattern swirling around her, she had a lithe figure, thin, but seemingly strong, her arms held behind her back and the faintest hints of a smile on her face, her eyes shining red, not unlike rubies, the crest of her head reaching back and up to form an odd point.

Standing up, the man’s form shifted, shortening in places, while broadening and gaining definition in others, becoming more and more human. His skin losing it’s unearthly green, darkening until it became an almost chocolate brown. His eyes going from their stark red to a pale white before gaining a more human iris of dark brown. The crest of his head folding back, and smoothing again and again until it took a more human shape, as his hands and feet gained a complexity of form they’d previously lacked, before a simple black suit and a pair of leather shoes, seemed to bleed into existence, covering him.

With an almost palpable reverence, John Jones set the cube down on top of the dresser as it returned again to the image of the woman, before whispering one bittersweet word, “M’ryi’ah.”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 06:50)

A small head of short blonde hair peeked out of the front door of the Harris home, cautiously looking out across the porch, and then towards the yard and street beyond, before it was finally followed by a body dressed in an oversized white t-shirt advertising something called ‘The Tick’, and a pair of baggy black cargo pants.

Closing the door behind herself, the blonde girl let out a small sigh, stretching as she stared out towards the street, “Swear, I was gonna start quoting Muppet Treasure Island if I spent too much longer in there.”

Settling into the lone plastic lawn chair on the porch, the girl smiled to herself as she pulled a pair of earbuds from her pocket, placing them in her ears, before fiddling with a slightly beat up old green ipod.

“I got cabin fever, I've got it too...” The girl sang off key to herself, as she relaxed, leaning back in the chair, just staring out at the sky overhead.

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 7:00)

“So...” A certain bookish red head turned to look at the girl walking beside her, a bit of nervousness seeping into her tone, “You, well, what, umm, happened last night? We lost connection and then I couldn’t reach you, and, well, I almost thought about heading over to your place. But, it seemed like a bad idea at the time of night, and...”

Raising a single black eyebrow, Buffy answered in what was becoming her usual monotone, “Nothing of note. The demon didn’t have much to say, and didn’t speak English.”

“Oh. Um, have you...” The redhead began to ask.

The dark haired girl, cut her off with a shake of her head, “Not yet.”

After chewing on her lip for a moment, Willow ventured, “Will you...”

A slight smirk crossed the slayers face at the question, “Soon.”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 07:14)

A small gust seemed to pick up as a tall, lanky brunette approached 804 North Clovis Drive, a small disgusted frown on her face as she took in the exterior of the Harris home.

“Yard hasn’t been mowed in a few weeks, back half of a flamingo sitting under one of the windows with no sign of it’s front half, a sign promoting the Gore/Lieberman campaign, and someone asleep on the porch,” The brunette shook her head slightly as her gaze lingered on the short haired blonde snoring loudly on one of the lawn chairs, “Place is as classy as ever.”

Making her way up through the driveway, avoiding the yard itself, and whatever it’s overlong grass might’ve been hiding, the girl tucked a long lock of brown hair behind one of her ears as she moved to stand in front of the blonde.

“Hmm,” The girl ran a finger along the blonde's shoulder, “Well....that doesn't feel right. Doesn't taste like the Halloween incident either. Curious.” Grabbing a hold of the blonde's shoulder, the dark haired girl shook it once, “Time to wake up.”

“Hnn, no Fezzik, not the rubber chicken!” The light haired girl groaned in alarm, blinking blearily as she slowly started to regain consciousness.

The brunette, for her part, just snorted and watched the other girl come around, before asking as the girl slowly righted herself, removing a pair of ear buds from her ears, “Have a good nap?”

“Huh, muh.” The blonde blinked a couple times stifling a yawn as she slowly managed to turn her attention towards the girl standing a few steps away from her, “Huh, muh, Am-err, Was I asleep? Sorry. Came out to enjoy some fresh air, must’ve nodded off somewhere along the line. Eh, um, and you are?”

“Amy Madison, I’m here looking for a friend. Tall, dark haired, kind of dorky, you know him?”

“....Isn’t my...Dad a little old for you?” The blond girl asked, staring up at Amy, a look of concentration in her eyes, as she tilted her head slightly. Seemingly try to puzzle the other girl out.

“Not unless your Dad is a High School junior named Xander Harris.” Amy shot back, a bit of humor in her voice now.

“Well, maybe, no....No, that’d just be weird. Al’s my cousin, I’m......Regan. Al’s up north with his parents visiting some relatives. Me and my dad have been watching the place while they’re away.”

“Really?”, Amy asked smirking, arms crossed, not buying it.

“Yup.” Regan smiled back, still selling it.

“Hmm...” Amy tapped her chin, as she thought over what the blonde had told her, “Regan, Regan, no, I can’t recall Xander ever mentioning any Regans.”

Regan sighed slightly, slumping deeper into her chair as she grumbled, “That’s disappointing. Not exactly unexpected though, I suppose. Took the boy three years to admit his best friend was a girl.” Giving a slight snort at the thought, the blonde girl shook her head, before looking back up at Amy, a strange glint in her eyes, “That really can’t stand though, can it? But how to get back at him for not mentioning his favorite cousin. Or at least I better be his favorite cousin, hmmm.”

“Right.” Amy nodded, shifting slightly, before moving to lean against one of the posts that held up the overhang over the porch. “Who is your Dad if I might ask?”

Scratching her chin, still apparently thinking about ways to get back at her cousin, Regan chuckled at the other girls question, “Rory. Rory Regan.”

“. . . And that would make you Regan Regan?” Amy asked, arching a single eyebrow.

Regan nodded.

“That’s....” Amy stopped, honestly finding herself lost for words.

Regan’s chuckling broke into full blown laughter, nearly causing her to tip over in her seat. Settling down almost a minute later, she shook her head, “My parents. I’m just thankful they had that small spark of creativity that let them look at our last name, rather than just resorting to their fallback plan of ‘Girl Regan’ or ‘Baby Regan’. Heaven forbid either one of them have another kid though, now that Regan’s taken though.”

Nodding slightly, and seemingly a little more unsure of just what was going on, Amy looked down at her watch, biting her lip before turning back to Regan, “Listen, I've gotta run, school and all. When you talk to Xander next, make sure he knows to call his friends asap. Pretty sure if he doesn’t soon, he’s going to find himself needing the jaws of life to get Willow pried off of him when she does find him.”

Regan nodded, waving as she watched the girl leave. Once the brunette was out of sight, Regan frowned deeply, scratching her chin as she mulled over the girls parting words, “Well, this is gonna be fun to explain.....Knew I should’ve told Giles just to spill it to them from the start.”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 08:07)

“Joseph Belmont.” Sunnydale’s Chief Forensic Specialist said by way of introduction as he held out his hand.

The man was tall, thin, and thoroughly bald. He also looked like a good wind could tip him over without too much trouble. The effect was not entirely helped by his nervous and, at the moment, slightly frightened manner, as he addressed the taller, black man now standing staring at the rows of cabinets that lined one wall of the Precincts morgue.

He continued as if he abruptly remembered that he’d paused, stuffing his unshaken hand back into one of the pockets of his labcoat, “Detective Jones, what can I do for you? I, well, I was told you’d probably have little interest here, other than to possibly confirm a few things in the old reports?”

John didn't immediately respond, but when he did his gaze didn’t move from the cabinets, though he did raise a curious eyebrow, “Indeed? I am curious as to who provided you with such an assurance?”

“The, uh, well, The Chief.”, The man answered quickly, fiddling with a bit of paperwork in his hands to avoid looking at the Detective.

John nodded slightly at that, before finally turning to face the man a contemplative look to his features, “Odd, it was he who asked me to consult on the Bank case from yesterday and give my opinion, as we tend to get more crime of this type back in Dakota.”

“Ah, he, well, he didn't inform me of that…” Joseph nodded, turning back he walked over into a small office only to emerge a moment later with a clipboard, “This is an odd one though.” 

“Oh?”

The specialist simply nodded in response, flipping through a few pages on the clipboard, before stopping, apparently having found what he was looking for. He glanced between the cabinets and the clipboard, as he made his way almost halfway down the wall, before stopping. Then, bending low, the man produced a set of keys, unlocked one of the bottommost cabinets, and pulled it partially out.

It was, of course, a body. Covered in the standard blanket, John couldn’t help but notice the unnatural position of the body… as if it were forced to bend into fitting onto the cabinet’s tray. This was only reinforced as Belmont pulled the cover off the body within before standing back up.

A slight frown crossed John’s face as he stared down at the gold plated features of the lone casualty of the previous days robbery, glancing back at the other man, he asked, “Jennifer Hester, yes?”

“Yes. Age: Twenty Seven. Only living relative is a sister who currently resides in Tennessee. Moved to Sunnydale a little over three months ago, after quitting a job working as a programmer for Queen Industries.”, The specialist nodded, reading off the clipboard in his hand. “Queen, Wayne, Luthor and the bunch are a bit on the paranoid side about any real employment positions, so we have a very detailed medical record.”

“No genetic abnormalities, and the only real exceptional thing is about how normal she is... was.” The specialist scratched his head as he looked at the corpse, “The exception is a missing little toe from a skiing accident eleven years ago, on the left foot.”

“No criminal background to speak of.” John nodded, the only things on that record were two arrests for public drunkenness, during her college years, and four speeding tickets.

“And what else?” John asked, shifting slightly where he stood, to get a better look at the woman.

Joseph let out a growl of frustration, “And I’m having trouble identifying just what she’s covered in! I’ve got so little to go on; about the only thing I know is that it looks like gold, though I’m very sure it’s not… when I used my voltmeter to measure the resistance it was way too high for gold. Hell, I have no idea what it is, how it was produced, how it was applied so uniformly – look at how thick a coated strand of hair is! – and by eye-witness accounts the perpetrator walks around covered in the stuff.”

Now Joseph let out a sigh of frustration,“I’ve sent some samples down to a lab in L.A. that has more equipment, but it’ll be at least two to three weeks before they *might* have results.”

John nodded, mulling over the man's words, while Joseph replaced the blanket over Jennifer, before closing and locking the drawer once more, “Was that all, Detective, um, Jones?”

Pulling out his wallet, John shook his head, “No. Not quite.” Digging for just a moment, the Detective eventually produced a small card handing it to Joseph, “I would like some samples sent to that lab, as well. I’m acquainted with their Chief Specialist, and I will ensure he makes it a priority.”

“Central City?” The Forensic specialist mused aloud, contemplating Johns request, “High rate of unusual crime. I’ve heard they’ve developed some unique testing methods. Sure. Just make sure to run it by the Chief.”

John gave the man a curt nod before turning to leave the morgue.

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 12:10)

Looking up from her lunch, as someone took the seat across from her in the faculty lounge, Jenny Calender found herself smiling, “I was just thinking about you.”

Coughing into his hand, in a very apparent bid to hide the slight blush spreading across his face, Rupert Giles gave the woman a small nervous smile as he started unwrapping his own lunch, “Yes, well, I do admit I came here hoping to find you.”

“Oh?” The woman’s smile deepened, “Really?”

Glancing up as the only other occupant of the lounge, a long haired man in a lab coat, got up and left, the librarian remarked, “Yes. Things seem to be settling a bit with, well, you know. I’m not entirely certain whether it’s for the better or not yet. But she does seem to be taking things in stride, which has me hopeful. Beyond that, I, well, I had a question I thought you might be able to answer.”

Taking a sip from her mug, the woman gestured for the man to continue.

Giles nodded slightly, using a plastic fork to delicately cut the sandwich his unwrapping had revealed, “It’s quite silly. I’m not even sure why I’m bothering you.”

“Well, I would think you’d know by now, I like silly. It makes life just that much more enjoyable.” The woman responded with a chuckle, “I like you after all.”

“Um, right.” The man nodded, “Well, then, I suppose the question is, what can you tell me about a group, at least I assume it’s some sort of group, called the Justice League?”

Leaning back in her seat, the woman let out a surprised chuckle, “The Justice League?”

“Yes.” The librarian nodded, “Or are you not familiar with them?”

Jenny shook her head negatively, “Oh no, I’m familiar. Just surprised you’re not. Where to start....”

“The beginning perhaps?” Giles offered, trying to help.

“Too many of those to know who or what to start with....You know, give me till this afternoon. That should give me some time to print out some basic information on the team and it’s members, maybe some photo’s. That sort of thing. I’ll bring it by after my last class lets out, sound good?”

“Yes, quite.” The librarian nodded. “Thank you.”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 15:15)

Hearing the phone ring, Xander, in her blonde form, reached across the couch, answering, “Yo Harris home and garden, this is Regan, how may I help you?”

“...”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. No caller I.d. on this phone Unc.”

“...”

“Yeah, so tomorrow we’ll get those taken care of? Does that mean I actually get to go out and about? Yippee!”

“...”

“No, I haven’t tried anything since you’ve been gone. Did use my phone to get some pictures of my ‘Regan’ form, as you oh so cleverly named it, for reference. Made it a little easier to change back this morning.”

“...”

“...Alright Uncle Rory, I’ll see you in a bit.”, setting the handheld back on it’s hook, Xander turned her focus to the television across from her. Picking up the remote, she turned it on, flipping through channels until she came to a report on a series of foiled muggings up in Washington, where the perpetrators had been pinned in place by arrows, “Huh. Wonder if they've got vamps up there too.”

After listening to the report for a few minutes, she continued her channeling surfing, eventually stopping to watch skateboarding on ESPN2, only to be almost immediately interrupted by a series of three loud knocks at the front door.

Getting up, the girl chuckled as she opened the door, “What, did you forget your keys or something?”

“No, I did not.”, The dark haired girl now standing opposite Xander in the doorway responded flatly, looking up at the blonde.

Staring down at the other girl, Xander tilted her head, taking her in, about 5’4, fairly average if attractive build, an impish face, a black blouse and slacks, and her jet black hair, pulled back in a set of pigtails. It took a minute, but squinting slightly, it finally came to her, and Xander gasped in surprise, “Buffy?”

A small, almost menacing smirk seemed to develop on the other girls face at hearing her name. “Xander, then?”

“....Well....shit.”


	6. ....It's Burning in My Brain!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own BTVS, Any version of the DCU or the Works of Charles Addams.  
> Feedback: Is cool.

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 14:59)

"He wouldn't happen to be sponsored by that infernal children's program,” Giles trailed, gesturing towards the woman while he seemed to struggle with recalling the name, “Bother you know, the one with the puppets, and the large mentally challenged avian?" 

"What?...Um, Sesame Street? You're asking if Superman is sponsored by Sesame Street?" Jenny asked having to hold back a chuckle at the thought.

"Indeed." Rupert nodded, snapping his fingers, “That’s the one.”

"....No." 

"Ah. Well, powerful or no, his outfit is just absurd then.” Rupert chuckled, leaning back in his seat as he rattled on, “I mean, whoever heard of a grown man running around showing off his knickers with a bright red capital letter on his chest outside of children's programming?"

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 15:00)

Holding her knees to her chest, Willow sat at the edge of the pebbly beach that surrounded a small lake in the middle of one of the smaller parks in Sunnydale. A small wistful smile on her face as she stared out over the serene water.

Her reverie, however was broken as a small flat rock shot across the water, skipping along, causing ripples to disturb the once placid lake as someone spoke up from behind her, “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Hmm?” Glancing up, a bit nervously, she spotted a tall dark haired boy, man, well, male person who appeared to be somewhere between Eighteen and Twenty Four. Though the UC Sunnydale hooded sweatshirt he was wearing had her leaning more towards the latter age then the prior, “What?”

Producing a small copper penny from his pocket, the man offered again, “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, um...” The petite girl started before trailing off, her eyes flitting between the ground and the penny held in the mans hand.

It took nearly a minute, but eventually, she slowly reached up, pulling the penny from between the mans fingers as she began with a dash of melancholy, “It’s....I’m.... everything's complicated. Which, you know, isn't usually a problem. Me and Complicated, old friends. But it’s well...people.” 

Settling down on the beach next to the redhead, the college student raised an eyebrow, “People?”

“People.” Willow nodded with some confidence.

“Hmm, People...” The student seemed to wiggle a bit uncomfortably in his seat as he mulled over the girls one word response, “Well, I like to think I’m good with people. A real people person even. Maybe I can help?”

“I...”, Willow started, only to stop as she mulled over the idea before nodding her head, her sad smile returning, “Well, maybe...I guess...I’ve got a friend...”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 15:18)

“....Well....shit.”

“You said that already.” The dark haired slayer noted idly.

“I did. Could probably say it six or seven more times for good measure given how my week seems to be going. Won’t, but could.” Xander shrugged, turning around motioning for Buffy to follow as she headed back towards the front room. “I've got a couple questions for you first, before we start on my lovely little week, if that’s alright?”

“That is....” Buffy trailed glancing around the room, eyeing a few empty bottles tucked into one corner, the large if old tv sitting at one end of the room a fair few nicks on it’s casing, alongside a few odd stains before her eyes turned back to Xander as she finished, “Acceptable.”

Resettling herself back in her seat on the couch, Xander picked up the remote, shutting the television off, before turning to look at Buffy again, her eyes narrowing slightly as she eyed the other girls hair, “I've got to ask, Broody isn't contagious is he?”

Buffy gave the girl a slight glare as she took the seat opposite her on the couch, “No.”

“Okay. Good. Hair gel the world over is probably sighing in relief as we speak.” The blonde chuckled slightly at her own joke, “So, Funeral?”

“....No. Though I suppose I could arrange for one.” The girl remarked, a not quite natural smile spreading across her face that managed to make the other girl shudder.

“Uh, no thank you.” Xander managed to respond, paling noticeably at the implied threat.

Buffy’s smile fell at the other girls response, “Pity.”

“.....No. No it really isn't. So, uh, yeah, drawing a blank on why you might’ve suddenly decided black is beautiful?”

“Halloween.” Buffy responded curtly.

“Halloween?” Xander just blinked.

“Yes.” The dark haired girl nodded.

“I don’t follow.” Xander admitted with a small shrug.

“You do not remember Halloween?” The slayer asked, a hint of surprise in her tone.

“Um, can’t say I've really tried.” The girl explained, glancing down at her own chest, “‘Other’ things have been on my mind, and the last thing really clear about that night was nearly getting run down by some maniac in a van as I was leading the kids past the school parking lot.”

“Magic. A mass possession of sorts....” 

“Oh, god, please tell me I didn't become He-Who-Giggles-And-Eats-School-Mascots again?”, Xander interjected, ignoring the rather dark glare Buffy shot her for her effort.

“No. It had to do with whatever costume you wore. You became a Foreign gentleman who was....competent with a blade. My own possession spent most of that night...testing him. After the spell ended, I was left with most of my possessions memories. It took me...”, Buffy stated analytically, irritation written large across her face.

Xander nodded along as Buffy spoke, before interrupting her curiosity getting the better of her, “Wait so I was....huh...Does that mean you were...?”

“Wednesday Addams, as you may recall you picked the costume.” Buffy stated, her tone near arctic, opening her mouth to continue, she was preempted unfortunately, by her couchmate. “Classic Wednesday or Modern?”

Refusing to answer, Buffy slowly came to her feet, before walking out of sight into the kitchen. Several minutes later, she reappeared butcher knife in hand and another disturbing smile on her face. Her eyes returning to the only other current occupant of the Harris home, she asked, “I request any further questions be saved till I finish my explanation, do you have any objections to that?”

Caught more than slightly off guard by her friend, Xander’s skin took on a pale green hue as she stared at the knife silently starting to nod, before catching herself and shaking her head. 

The sound of the front door opening and slamming shut saved her from having to make any further responses.

Both girls turned towards the doorway, curious. Grumbling could be heard from the hallway, as someone piddled around for a minute, before the grey haired, decently built, if slightly over the hill figure that was Rory Regan walked into the room a small manila envelope held under one arm. 

Glancing up as he entered the living room, Rory raised an eyebrow while running a hand over the back of his head as he took in the scene, ”Well this is....Kinky?” He seemed to roll the word around in his head for a moment, before his smile grew a little bigger, “Yeah. Kinky. Didn't know you were into knife play kid?”

A vein near the top of Buffy’s head seemed to throb as she listened to the older man, glancing down at Xander, she deadpanned, “This is where you get it from, isn’t it?”

“....I.....plead the fifth.” Xander shook her head, her skin starting to return to a more human hue as she calmed down thanks to Buffy having seemed to have cooled off somewhat.

Turning her attention back to the new arrival, Buffy demanded, “Who are you?”

Folding his arms across his chest, Rory chuckled at the slayers demeanor, shaking his head a little as he responded, “Rory Regan, Ms. Summers. I’d say good to finally meet you but, well...” He finished, giving a nod to the knife.

Buffy glanced at the knife, before turning back to Rory, nonplussed, “You’d prefer bigger?”

“...” Rory was lost for words for a moment, after a few moments, he finally managed to respond with a bit of a dry chuckle, “Good god, you’re a Mini-June....Frankly, I’d prefer none at all. And you’re starting to remind me of someone I’d rather not think about right now.”

Acquiescing, the Slayer disappeared for a moment setting the knife down in the sink before returning giving her friend a quick look that promised it’s swift return if she deemed it necessary. 

As Buffy took a seat back on the couch, Rory spoke up again, “I've gotta know, what exactly were you kiddo’s talking about that required a blades presence?”

“How best to serve tongue.” The Slayer responded flatly without missing a beat.

“Huh.” Stepping away from the wall he’d been leaning against Rory gave a small shrug as he came up to nephew-turned-nieces side, “Well, when I want to shut the Kid up, so I can finish a sentence I just...” The older man proceeded to swat the girl lightly on the back of the head, “Do that.”

“Hey!” 

“Interesting. I may adopt a variation of your method.” The Slayer nodded thoughtfully, the slight gleam in her eye causing the other girl in the room to whimper slightly.

“Feel Free.” Rory shrugged, before eyeing the Blonde beside him who was still rubbing her head, “So, kid, what were you two really talking about?”

“Umm... talk is probably too strong a term. Buffy was mostly just telling me about Halloween, and her decision to ‘embrace her inner goth’.”, Xander answered sheepishly.

Raising a single eyebrow, a dark smile spread across Buffy’s face, one that made the former boy shiver from the tip of his toes to the top of his head, as the Slayer asked with faux cheerfulness “Goth? Okay. I think I hit the important points. So, Xander, I believe you had your own story to share with me?”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 15:21)

Leaning back away from where he sat at his desk, groaned audibly as he looked away from the woman sitting across from him. Or more precisely, the current picture she’d been holding up. “Dear lord, Atlantean Royalty?”

“Yes.” Jenny nodded, a small smile on his face.

“You’re certain? And you say they even have an embassy?” Giles ventured hesitantly as he turned to look back at the woman.

Jenny chuckled slightly, setting the picture down, “Only as of recently, but yes.”

“And he’s part of this league? Operates on American soil, and all?”

Jenny gave a small shrug at that, “Yes. Though they’re not limited to the U.S., they’ll tackle Crisis’s in pretty much any Country that’ll sanction it.”

“.....With Foreign nobility....I can’t even begin to imagine the nightmare that has to be for their legal department.”

“I can’t say I've thought too much about it, though he’s not the only member of a noble family on the team.” Jenny remarked with a slight chuckle as she dug through her papers.

“You’re kidding?”

Handing Rupert a few sheets of paper, and holding up another glossy printed photograph, Jenny shook her head, “Nope. Meet Princess Diana of Themyscira, only daughter of the Queen of the Amazon Nation. Commonly known as Wonder Woman.”

“Okay, love, now I know your kidding.” Rupert stated, disbelief written across his face as he tapped a finger against the picture. “She’s wearing the colonist’s Flag as a bathing suit.”

“....Yeah. I don’t think she’s ever given a clear answer for why she does that, other than to in her words, ‘Hold up the ideals Man’s world claims to adhere to’.” Jenny allowed.

“...Strange bird.”

Jenny let out a little snort of laughter before quickly lifting a hand to her mouth to muffle the laughter that followed. Settling down after a few moments, she responded, “A little, I suppose. Powerful though, both physically and politically.”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 15:50)

“...Uh, not much to tell, I....” Xander trailed off, chewing on her lower lip for a moment before grinning as she proclaimed, “I was bitten by a were-girl!”

Buffy glared at her friend for a moment, clearly unamused, but looking up at said friends uncle, and raising an eyebrow.

Rory gave a slight nod, before looking down at the kid, “I don’t think she’s buying it.”

“But...it’s...” Xander trailed off, before sighing, “Yeah. No. I made that up...”

“Want me to give her the rundown kid?” Rory offered

Pulling her legs up and against herself on the couch, Xander asked a little sheepishly, staring down, “If you don’t mind...”

Rory snorted, “Well, I guess I can give it a go then.” Turning towards Buffy, the older man started, “Well, Miss Summers, I suppose I should start with this, the world is a little stranger than even the Watcher’s would likely have you believe. My....” 

Rory stopped himself, glancing down at the boy turned girl at his side, “What do you prefer I refer to you as for now anyways, kid? Nephew? Niece? Or I guess I could call you my daughter, I do have that paperwork in the works to cover my ass with that cop...”

“....Nephew. Please.”

“Right.” Rory gave a small nod, “My Nephew here, being a prime example. You see, a little less than twenty years ago....”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 15:51)

“And this would be Red Tornado.”

Giles eyes seemed to widen a moment at the name, before he turned his attention onto the picture, “....That’s not Red Tornado.”

Jenny leaned back, setting the picture down as she stared across the desk at her English colleague, “Oh?”

“The council has files on most of the mystery men active during the...well, the last real war. Red Tornado was one of them, that is not her.”, The Englishmen explained, “He might be using the name, and I’d have to double check the council files, but I’m fairly certain that there would be some difficulty fitting the original into that..tin plated suit.”

Jenny nodded, “Robot, actually. And yes, he isn't the original, though from what I understand he does have her blessing to use the name.”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 15:52)

“Well, I guess the best advice I can give is this; Sometimes we men can manage to stick our heads so far up our rear ends, that we’re completely lost in the dark to everything going on around us. If you’re Friend, Sandy...”

“Xander...” Willow corrected.

“Right. If Zenzu doesn't want to give you the opportunity to help him yank it out, then the only thing you can do is wait till he gets tired of walking into walls and reaches out.”

“So you’re saying I just need to give him some space?”

“Pretty much, have patience for now, then beat some sense into him with a rolled up newspaper later when he pops his head out for air.”

Standing up, Willow stretched quickly working out some of the kinks having sat for so long had worked into her muscles, before brushing off some of the accumulated dirt on her clothing, beaming down at the young man still sitting on the pebbly beach, she stated, reaching out a tentative hand “Thanks...You've given me something to think about. I’m Willow, by the way.”

Using the hand to help kick himself back up to his feet, the messy haired college boy smiled back, “Keith. Keith Kenyon, good to meet you Will.”

“Likewise.”, The high school girl nodded as she turned slightly away, “I’ll....I’ll see you around.”

“Count on it.” The boy remarked with a large grin before he started to jog away.

Watching the boy jog off through the Park, Willow jumped a bit when her phone suddenly started blaring ‘My eyes are open wide today, by the way, I made it through the day..’

Fumbling to get the smartphone out of her pocket, answering as she finally got it to her ear, “Amy, hello?”

The voice of the other girl was quick to respond sounding a bit put out,“Hey. I stopped by his place this morning, would’ve checked with you but...well..Snyder.”, 

“What?” Willow responded intelligently, as she started walking along the path leading out of the park.

“Snyder. You know something of a little fellow, looks like one of those Ferengi thing’s off Star Trek’s uglier cousin? He caught me coming into school a whole three minutes past the bell and well, after that bullshit last month at the pep rally with the custard and the bottle rocket. That he pinned me and Mears with as scapegoats when he found out he couldn’t blame Summers, he decided this ‘transgression’ gave him grounds to suspend me for the week.” Amy couldn’t quite keep her disgust with the whole debacle from seeping out a bit.

“Oh, yeah, Snyder’s...Snyder’s a real buttface.” Willow cursed, before continuing a bit more cheerfully, ”I guess that explains where you were today though.” 

“Uh huh,” The other girl responded, “Yeah. Anyways, as I was saying, I swung by Xan’s house this morning, it’s part of why I was late, actually.”

“Oh, you did, good! Did you see him?”

“Um, No, not quite I saw this girl though. Said her name was Regan Regan, Xander’s cousin. Or some such...”

“Umm...Amy?” Willow tried to interrupt.

“Kind of an odd little thing though, she claimed Xander went upstate with his Parents, said she and her Dad were watching the house for them.” The girl went on, completely missing Willow’s failed interjection.

“Amy!” The redhead tried again.

“Short haired Blonde, maybe 5’5, 5’7 tops. Looked like she was wearing one of Xan’s shirts, I mean she was literally just swimming in it.”

“AMY! Stop for a second!” Willow shouted into the phone, managing to quiet the other girl for a moment, “Xander’s Uncle doesn’t have a daughter!”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 16:00)

“So, his car is called what again?”

“The Batmobile....”

“And those little modified throwing stars of his?”

“....Batarangs.”

“And...”

“Rupert, I don’t know if you’re honestly confused, or poking fun at him. But yes, most of his tools have either been named by himself, or otherwise nicknamed by reporters or fans after the fact to in some way reference Bats.”

“Ah. Spot on then. And for the record, I was a tad confused. The stars, for one only seem to be of slight resemblance to...well Boomerangs I assumed is what the bat themed name was referring back to.”

“Okay. I’m just going to move on to the next one, we can discuss The Batman’s idiosyncrasies another time if you’re still confused.” Digging through her folder, Jenny pulled out another photo, pushing it across the table, “As I stated when we were discussing Superman earlier, the league has more than one member with stated origins marking them as not originally of this Earth. Probably the second most reserved member of the league after The Bat, that’s a photo of the Martian Manhunter, and, yes, he is from where his name implies so far as we can tell.”

Picking up the photo, Giles glanced at it curiously for a moment before collapsing back into his chair, the picture slipping out of his hand and back onto his desk, as he cursed, “Oh bugger me.”

Jenny’s eyebrows shot up, more than a little surprised at both the curse and the reaction, “Um, what?”

Eyes closed, Giles leaned back heavily in his seat as he started, “Jenny, love. I suppose I should warn you, I’m going to be have to have you relate everything you know about that fellow, but first, I suppose I have a bit of a confession to make...”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 16:20)

Standing in the entrance way of the Harris home, Buffy looked up at her newly blonde friend a small scowl the only hint of emotion in her features, “You will talk to Willow.”

Gulping, Xander nodded her head answering slowly,“Uh...yeah...soon...I..” 

“Tomorrow.”, The Slayer stated. 

“Buh, umm, I’ve...”

Rory coughed from where he stood a little behind the pair, “We’ve got things that need to be handled tomorrow, Ms. Summers. If theres time, I might swing her by that library of yours. No promises though.”

Buffy nodded once, before turning around, “I will see you then, then.”

“Right.”

“Good night Buff.” Xander stated, holding the door as she watched her friend walk out onto the porch.

The slayer didn't respond as she moved down the walk, a thoughtful look on her face.

Closing the door, Xander sighed palming her face, “Well...that was...”

“Different?” Rory chuckled back.

“Very different. Different in a maybe-not-bad but-definitely-creepy-in-a-creepy way. I think I’m gonna hit the hay before god decides to have any more giggling fits over my life.” Xander groaned, before moving off towards the stairs.

“Pleasant dreams.”

“Yeah.” Xander rolled her eyes. “Right.” 

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 20:07)

Regan knelt in the entrance way of a great hall, blood dribbling from several cuts in both her arms, and her left leg. 

A blade shot out suddenly from the darkness, It was almost at her neck before she managed to pull up her own blade, using it to force the other away, shuddering with the effort.

Slowly, pain showing through with every movement she pushed herself to her feet, her form fading as she did. Her shape being replaced with each passing moment by a taller, broader, more masculine one as she...he, called out into the darkness, “My name is Alexander Harris, you killed my parents, prepare to die.”

A face seem to linger at the edge of the shadowed interior of the hall. A familiar sneer, and occasionally for a moment a shock of acid blonde hair would be visible in the moonlit shadows of the hall. 

“Is tha’ all you have to say pup?” A blade followed the words, the standing man deflecting it harshly, though stumbling slightly afterwards, visibly taxed by the effort.

Alexander turned, warily looking left and right, occasionally his own blade venturing to snake out into the suspicious shadows of the hall that surrounded him.

As Alexander moved deeper into the hall, his form seemed to shift again, not really shrinking, but thinning out in places, and taking on a decidedly green hue and feminine curves.

“My name is Regan Harris, you killed my brother, prepare. to. die!”

The green figure collapsed to it’s knees suddenly as a blade was driven first in, then ripped through it’s left shoulder.

A rough hand spun it around, forcing it to faces it’s attacker as it once again started to fade and shift form, shrinking, becoming once again the blonde figure from the entranceway.

“Now,” The girl shook her head, the dark shadows that had obscured the figure dissolving into a gaunt, pale white inhuman face, “Is that any way to speak to your Master?”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 20:14)

Xander woke with a start, glancing around her room in fear, a hand unconsciously rubbing her shoulder. Relaxing after a few tense moments, she rolled over, yawning, and muttering to herself as she started to drift back to sleep, "I would've thought he'd have a beard."

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 20:15)

Looking at the clock over his desk, Rupert Giles let out a heavy sigh, muttering to himself as he pushed him to his feet, “Long bloody day.”

Walking around his desk and out of his office, the Watcher continued to grumble, “Suppose I shouldn't have expected her to show this evening. Though I wish she would've at least had the courtesy to let me know she didn't intend to patrol...”

Looking up from one of the table, a certain newly dark haired girl arched an eyebrow, as she marked her page, setting her book down with an ominous thud, causing the librarian to spin on his heel to face her as she spoke, “I do not intend to patrol tonight.”

“How long have you been there?!”

“I’ve been reading for a little over an hour.”

“Reading, really?”

Lifting up the book, Buffy turned it’s front to face the Watcher, “Ulimi Wa Walaji Nyama...That’s a demonic codex...on...oh dear. And you've been reading it?”

Buffy simply nodded.

“It’s written in Swahili, Buffy...” Giles hazarded, still finding himself put off by the girl recent shift in attitude.

“Yes, I’m aware.” The slayer deadpanned.

“I don’t believe I recall you having.....oh, Wednesday than?”

“Yes.”, Standing up, the Slayer collected a pair of quarter staffs from the weapons lockup, throwing one to Giles before she assumed a guarded stance, “I saw Xander today.”

“H-how is he?” The Watcher asked warily, as he took up his own stance, slowly edging towards the stacks.

The slayer simply stood in place as she watched him, arching an single eyebrow as she responded coolly, “Female.”

“..Ah. So...is he...well she...ummm.” Giles started, only to drift off, uncertain of how to complete his statement.

“Green?”

Giles nodded, slumping slightly in relief that he hadn't had to say it and potentially break the trust placed in him. Before slowly moving along the edge of the stacks towards his opponent.

“Only some of the time.” The girl responded, turning slightly as she continued to watch her mentor.

The older mans staff lunged forward, aiming high for the girls chest, before shifting down just before it would’ve hit, in an attempt at a leg sweep. Buffy, showing little surprise flipped over the staff, her own slashing out and slamming roughly against the top of the librarians, forcing him to draw back to keep his grip.

Watching as the teen re-assumed her stance, Giles queried, “Some of the time?”

“Yes.”

Inwardly groaning, Giles asked in a slightly put upon tone, “Do you care to explain what you mean by that?”

The slayer mused on that for a moment, leaning slightly on her staff, before responding with only a hint of humor, “No.”

“No?!” Stumbling slightly at the unexpected response, Giles managed to use his own staff to regain his balance after a moment, “No...why...Hmmm...I...oh. I suppose I should inform you, Extraterrestrial Threats are not considered part of the Council’s purview barring extreme circumstance.”

Buffy’s eyebrows raised slightly at the statement, her voice though showed no hint of surprise as she stated flatly, “He did not tell you.”

“No,” Giles smiled, slightly amused, “He did not. I had a run in with an old...contemporary, I suppose is the best term to describe the wanker. Turned out he was Alexander’s Uncle...”

“Rory.” The Slayer stated, with a frown, “He didn't tell you either.”

Giles nodded, “No, he did not. He just made me feel like a right bloody fool. Told me to have someone look into some group called the Justice League.”

“And that led you to the Manhunter.” The Slayer finally deduced.

“Yes, well, eventually. I, well, I wasn't about to try to get information from...” Giles turned to glare at the Computer sitting innocently in the corner of the library, “That. And I didn't feel it a good idea to...put possible ideas into Willow’s head without having more information myself, so I must admit I asked Jenn...Ms. Calendar if she knew anything of the subject.” Chuckling, Giles added, “Turns out she’s something of a fan.”

Buffy’s struck forward suddenly, shifting beside Giles, catching him at the knee with her staff forcing him to fall back onto his rear. “Wha!?”

“You dropped your guard.” The Slayer stated flatly, though Giles suspected rather smugly.

“I....suppose I did.” The librarian offered diplomatically as he pushed himself back up to his feet, shifting his staff up forward as he stepped back, trying to put distance between the girl and himself as he reassumed a guarded stance, “Will you share what you meant by some of the time with me now, Child?”

Buffy nodded, stepping back herself, though she returned her staff to her side, not taking any recognizable staff while her eyes followed her mentor, “Martians are apparently very able shapeshifter, he’s...learning. He can take on the form of a blonde human girl.”

“Blonde? Does he look like you, well, like you used to?” The watcher raised an eyebrow, shifting his staff lower as he moved away from the stacks, and around the book cart.

“Not particularly. No. He appears to be a broad mix of features, a little of me, Willow, Cordelia, My Mother, Ms. Calendar, a little of Harmony. The hair actually seems more Harmony’s color than mine. Though the style I’m not certain, possibly a relation of his. Now if you want me to continue, do not interrupt.” The Slayer finished with a bit of a glower, “I scared her at one point, she paled, then began turning green, though she eventually returned to a more human coloring. That is what I meant by some of the time.”

Giles nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on his face, “Shapeshifting. Intriguing. Don’t suppose you asked why he’s not assumed his old form, or at least a male one?”

“I did, actually. He can’t, yet. Even attempting to change genders causes him pain. They’re not certain yet why, they do have a few theories. But his Uncle is waiting to hear back from some contacts before he pursues any of them.” 

Twirling his staff forward, Giles went for one of the girls shoulders, only to have her move forward, twist, and use her own staff to hold off his, as she kicked out at his chest, throwing him again to the ground. 

Crouching over him, the Slayer smiled, “My win?”

“....Yes. Quite. I believe that’s enough for tonight as well. Though if you could drop by early tomorrow, I would appreciate speaking a bit more about this.”

Buffy nodded, stepping over him, leaving her staff on one of the tables as she went back to where she’d left her book. “I’m borrowing this.” It wasn't a question.

Glancing over, as he pushed himself up, Giles sighed, “....I suppose it won’t hurt. Though I can’t begin to guess why it interests you so.”

“Some of the descriptions remind me of Wednesdays extended family.”

))V((

(FRI, 11/07, 20:16)

Detective Jones stood rigid, just inside the room he’d rented a faint green glow emanating from his eyes, while his keys lay on the floor at his feet. Very sudden, his posture slackened, forcing him to lean heavily back against the door frame.

Pulling out a handkerchief, and dabbing his forehead, the Detective let a small smile cross his lips as he chuckled softly, “I believe I've been lied too. Curious.”


End file.
